#Business Environment Assignment Help | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pascalssbabyy · 1 year ago

Text

The Slip Up, Part One

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Virgin Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI

Word Count: 9.3k

Summary: Two years you had worked with Javier Peña, and it had been two years since your attraction to him started. What happens when at a work party you accidentally slip your secret to the man himself?

Warnings: 18+ SMUT mdni, no use of Y/N, age gap (25/40), plot, Javier and reader are friends and work together, smoking, alcohol consumption, reader has long hair and wears makeup, cheeky confessions, pet names, virgin!reader, innocent reader, Javier is a ladies man (obvs), kissing, F!oral, fingering, kinda public shenanigans?

Well well well what have we got here?? I’m so excited to share with you my first ever fic of the Javier Peña. I haven’t wrote about Javier before so please be easy on me 😰 (And it definitely won’t be the last 👀) This is going to be a two parter as it was getting so long 😭 Anyway, I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍🫶🏼 Part Two

Taglist: @millercontracting @harriedandharassed @mumma-moonchild @chyannealaniz

Also a little shoutout to @schnarfer 🤍 for helping me with my tiny little breakdown I had whist writing this 🤣 so appreciative of you 🫶🏼

You’ve been working for the DEA in Bogotá, Colombia, for nearly two years, and you have known Javier Peña, your colleague, for the same amount of time, working with and for him as his former secretary. You would answer his calls that he’d regularly miss, whether out or in the office, too preoccupied with gathering and processing substantial evidence for cases. You’d file any primary documents that he’d lay on your desk and assign meetings to fit into his busy schedule.

You were the one who’d keep his feet firmly on the ground when the office would stir and shake. You were the one who’d alleviate that pressure off his shoulders. You were the one who’d stop him from crumbling when things got too harsh.

Working for the DEA was a massive part of your life, and right now, with the underlying issues and risks, it had to be. It was a demanding workplace, and the office held a lot of tension: the buzzing of printers, the constant ringing of telephones, and people rummaging and rushing around one another. The office held immense pressure and enormous responsibility, with everyone performing their duty with focus and determination.

But behind all the stress came the reward, the pride. You knew people wanted justice for anything they’d set their mind and body to. To help make the world a better place where people shouldn’t worry.

And if you hadn’t accepted the offer two years ago, you wouldn’t have had the experience of working in this sort of environment, and you wouldn’t have met the man who would eventually change everything for you.

Whether it was for good or bad, you hadn’t quite figured that out just yet.

🖤🖤 Two Years Ago 🖤🖤

Anxiety. That was the first emotion you detected when the words fell from your boss's lips. You were apprehensive and too anxious about being offered an open secretary position at the US Embassy in Bogotá. Having to move across the country and live for however long you needed to in Columbia. You’d never been to a place that wouldn’t have taken your interest if it wasn’t for the job. And to fly out there all on your own.

Your hometown was all you had ever known: walking past the same streets, chatting with the same people and indulging in the same conversations. Your life had become this ongoing routine. It was repetitive, and deep down, you knew things had to change.

You had been keen to move out of the US for a while, and your family and friends had come to notice it, too. From an early age, you were independent, eager to live a life without setbacks, a life you could be proud of, where you worked hard to get where you wanted to be.

So no longer than two weeks later, you said your last goodbyes to the people you loved and cared for the most, with your suitcase packed and your passport ready in hand, all set to bring on the new life waiting for you.

Walking into the Webb County Sheriff's Office for the first time was nerve-racking. You could hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears, a deafening sound, sweaty palms imprinting your visible anxiousness on the entrance door when you walked into the main office, seeing so many unknown faces. People you’d soon be close to, accompanied by, and surrounded by a workplace that was so foreign to you. You can feel the pressure, the twisting of your stomach as you hold tightly to your bag that hangs across your shoulder, nameless eyes and limbs ceasing to a standstill as people watch you walk past.

And in just a moment, you’re about to be introduced to your brand new co-worker.

Who in fact, took you completely by surprise.

He was much younger than you thought he’d be; you were guessing his late thirties or early forties. He seemed charming, and his stance was very open and welcoming. You noticed that he had the softest brown eyes, his skin tanned in colour, a moustache, and an intense nose that fitted his facial structure.

Your breath hitches when you eye his figure; his shoulders are broad and covered in a black leather jacket with a white buttoned-up shirt underneath and washed-out blue jeans that were incredibly snug on his thighs and waist area.

Wait, what were you doing? Have you just checked out your work colleague?

“Javier Peña. I’d like you to meet your new secretary.”

You give him a warm smile and gently introduce yourself, praying your nervousness and instant attraction to him were unseen as you kindly shake his open and outstretched hand. You grasp him with a firm, confident grip, and the tingle left behind when he pulls back travels across and up your arm and down your spine. His touch feels homely, his hands large and enveloped in your own.

His tone breaks the silence between you both with words that mean to comfort. “It’s nice to meet you darlin. And welcome to Bogotá.”

“Thank you, sir,” you muster up. “I’m excited to be working alongside you.”

Javier smiles widely at you. A smile that makes your stomach churn, and your cheeks blush a crimson red.

“I’ll leave you both to it. If you need anything, Javi, just let her know. She’ll be outside there and ready for you.”

Javier nods at the receptionist, giving her a thank you as she walks out of his office, closes the door on her way out, and leaves you alone.

“Please. Sit down,” Javier says, pointing to the chair opposite his own. “I just wanna start by going through a few things with you. To get you up to date with what’s going on around here. Get you used to everything.”

“Thank you, sir,” you repeat, settling yourself on the chair and resting your bag alongside it.

Javier looks at you with a teasing expression. “Okay, first things first. You don’t have to call me sir, darlin. Please, call me Javi.”

From your minor introduction, you immediately felt something you couldn’t quite put your finger on with Javier. Something remote and unexplored, and you didn’t know if it excited or scared you. How your brain had turned into mush, your throat swallowing all self-possession and thighs subconsciously clenching together.

Even after two years, you still felt it, and it was something that Javier would never come to be acquainted with.

Well, that’s what you think.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Being Javier’s secretary for as long as you had, you’d come to know him very well. He probably didn’t know it himself; being a persistent and overly busy man, you saw everything he got up to when he was here at the Embassy. You’d taken your time to watch him, to observe and understand parts of him and his personality, and that was both inside and outside of work.

Javier was good-hearted. He was bounteous and made you feel like you were part of the team from the beginning. He was a hard worker, and the two of you had gotten close from all the time you shared with one another. Being around each other for a long time, you had become good friends.

But with Javiers overall kindness, he was also flirtatious, smooth in personality and someone you’d call a ‘ladies' man’. Everyone knew Javier had made his way around certain women in the department. Whether the woman was new to the job or had been in the embassy a while, or even if he had only known them thirty minutes when you’d go out together for a few drinks after work. You knew he paid women generously to get secretive information out of them to help with his cases, and obviously because he wanted a quick and easy fuck. This had become a pattern and was Javier's strategy; he had been this way before you had even started.

A girl like you could never change him, could you?

He would sometimes arrive late at work with a lipstick mark on his collar and a purplish bruise on the crevice on his neck. The indistinct linger of cheap women’s perfume clinging tightly to his shirt. Possibly vanilla-scented? No, it definitely smells fruity this time. But whatever it is, it makes your head spin, it’s overpowering, and it makes bile fill up your throat, threatening to spew over.

You’d happen to notice it all, and you couldn’t help yourself, already held down deep by him. All of him.

What made it worse was he was never like this with you. Not romantic and never flirty, never using his charm to add you to his list of women he’d fucked in the department, only asking if you wanted to join him for a drink to extend the night when you both wouldn’t need to worry about work the next day. He’d always have you questioning yourself: Why wasn’t he like that with you? What was it about you that he maybe didn’t like? Why had he fucked most women and leave you with wondering thoughts? Yeah, you technically ‘worked‘ for him, but he wasn’t a boss in the department. And his role hadn’t stopped him from trying it on with women higher in rank than him.

You couldn’t help but feel envious of the woman he’d talk to, the woman who’d sit in the passenger seat of his jeep as he drove off, the desks he’d perched his full weight one as he’d compliment their nails, their hair and clothes. The way he’d brush a loose strand of hair behind their ears. You’d hear what they’d say behind closed doors. How incredible he was in bed, how he was the best fuck they’d ever had. How sweet and gentle he could be or rougher if intended.

You wanted him. Indefinitely more than he’d ever want you. And it hurts you more than the last.

You knew his coffee order and how he wouldn’t even take a sip if it had too much cream. You knew that on Thursdays, he wore that pink button-up shirt that you secretly adored on him so much. You knew he’d get a little line across his forehead when he was stressed, how he’d pick at his bottom lip and fiddle with the curls on the nape of his neck when he couldn’t quite figure something out.

Sometimes, you’d even wonder if it was love that you felt for him. No, it couldn’t be. How could you be in love with a man who wouldn’t love you? Who wouldn’t look at you the way you looked at him? Whose hands you wouldn’t ever feel glide across your naked skin. Who’s lips, which you’d never have, faintly brushed along your own, his voice singing delicate praises in your ear, telling you that he did like you back and that he finally wanted something. Something with you.

No man had made you feel this way. That’s why you knew your feelings differed from anything you’d ever experienced. Javier had shown you kindness when life was tough and days were new and scary. You appreciated him thoroughly, and simply knowing him was an experience in itself.

At 25, you’d never known what it was like to be with someone so intimately, what it would be like to have someone sexually. Someone so bare. You wanted to, of course, but life, work, and Javier had got in the way. So for now, you’d reel in your imagination, picturing yourself in a moment of intimacy and how every time you did, Javier was the man who was giving it to you, experiencing it with you for the first time.

Your fingers would pull an orgasm from you so easily when Javier was the only man on your mind—racing you to that peak where your back would arch off creased bedding, thighs clamping and shivering, your breath cut off and replaced with only his name.

Javier Javier Javier.

You felt stupid. You knew you were giving yourself false hope and wasted time. It had been two years, and so far, your feelings were kept closed and hidden, too afraid of the rejection you knew would come soon after.

Because you knew that Javier would never be like that, Javier wasn’t a man who settled down with someone and added feelings to an already hectic life. Javier ran away from emotions the second they crept up on him, cutting people off when they got too close.

So you just watched. Taking a moment to yourself to admire him. He’s sat at his desk with piles of paper and files stacking higher and higher. His fingertips rub the tenderness of his temples as thick, heavy smoke puffs cover the air while he smokes his third cigarette of the day. Steve’s sat opposite him, both deep in conversation, with Steve pointing to the pinboard that displays evidence and connections to possible outcomes.

You cherish these moments, spying on him from afar. Those soft hazel eyes furrowed in concentration, his plush lips wrapped around the cigarette's tip. You can hear his laugh when his mouth perks upwards, and every so often, he’d lick his thumb, revealing that subtle glimpse of his tongue, the calloused digit shiny from his saliva as he turns the file pages over. Turning them over and over and over. Thinking what it would be like to feel his tongue on your—

“You coming to the work party tomorrow?” Melissa asks casually.

Your body jumps in your chair as she breaks you out of your trance, plopping herself on the corner of your desk with a hand flat on the wood to keep herself secure, legs crossed as she peers down at you.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” she adds, wiping her finger across your bottom lip, “just gonna remove that drool pooling from your mouth.”

You groan at her teasing and pull your head away, “Really, Melissa? I wasn’t even staring, so don’t start.”

Melissa was the only woman, well, as you know of, who knew about your infatuation and crush on Javier. After you’d confessed it to her on a very drunken night at a bar one weekend, stomach full and head wavy from an overly sweetened gin and tonic. You remember how she looked at you with widened eyes and revelation. The one thing she never did from your confession was judge you, which you appreciated. She knew of Javi's tendencies, and she had said very honestly that you shouldn’t go near him, that he was only going to break your heart if you delved into your feelings too much, even though it hurt you. You knew she was right.

But then she wanted you to enjoy yourself, get yourself out there, and be more open. What could possibly go wrong with a feelings-free hookup?

“So?” she waits, “you gonna come?”

“I don’t know Melissa,” you reply back.

She gives you a sly smirk, “Well, I think you should come. Go on, enjoy yourself for once. You can wear that dress we brought at the mall last week.”

Your mind goes back to that day. Melissa had pushed and pushed and practically begged you to buy this dress until moments later, you left the store with a bag in hand and a damaged purse.

She leans her weight down so her face is close to yours, “Javi’s gonna be there.”

You’re fiddling with your pen, twirling it around your fingers and thinking. Of course Javier was going to be there, he’d never miss an opportunity to drink at the job. And if he was going, you were.

“Fine,” you ultimately give in. “I’ll be there.”

“Atta girl.” Melissa praises. “I’ll see you tomorrow, hun.” She gives you a wink before walking back to her desk, leaving you with tomorrow's public gathering pondering through your mind.

🖤🖤 The Next Day 🖤🖤

Today was a day free from work life and you had spent the majority of your time locked away in your apartment, gathering yourself and getting things prepped and ready for the works party that was only a couple hours away; you started off by having a deep cleansing shower, then blow drying your hair and styling it in soft bouncy curls that rested against your back, then adding a light layer of makeup and finishing off with some perfume and your outfit of choice. A long black tight fitting dress with black stiletto heels.

You look at yourself in the mirror, head tilting to the side, glancing at your attire as you patiently wait for your taxi to arrive. The material you wore accentuated you curves and brought out the colour in your skin. You stare at your back in the reflection and your eyes are met with bare skin, the fabric low cut and finishing just at your lower back.

The dress was beautiful, and you wonder if a certain someone tonight might think the same way.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You arrive back at work a hour later, the sound of your heels clacks across marble flooring as you walk through the entrance of the Embassy and down the hall. The vibration of music is loud and the chatter of people gets closer and closer, your anxiety about what the evening will entail already settling in.

You can see people drinking, how they’re laughing and bickering to one another. Your co-workers are dressed in formal attire, there’s woman in dresses and men in blazers, and there are people everywhere. They’re everywhere you turn, and there’s some faces you’ve never seen before. Probably parters or dates that have been invited as plus ones.

You stand there with that same well known anxiousness. It continues to pour out and you’re desperate for someone to come save you, to pull you into the swing of things and make you feel not so abandoned. So lost in the familiarity of it all.

Melissa’s across the room and her eyes brighten up when she sees you, skipping and scooting around the crowds of people to get to you, giving you a quick smile and a peck on the cheek.

“Knew that dress was a good idea. You look fucking ravenous hun.”

That apprehension you felt ceases and you actually laugh, trying to hide the radiance that flutters across your features from her remark.

“And you don’t look too bad yourself,” you say, eyes observing her own outfit.

“I know,” she teases and gives you a wink, her hands bringing you further into the room and handing you an alcoholic drink. Well needed.

You and Melissa chat to one another for a while. You’re both a few glasses into the night and the conversation between you goes smoothly, talking about life outside work and everything general. Melissa goes silent for moment and her eyes clock to the side of your shoulder so quickly you don’t immediately catch on, but whatever she saw has her grinning back at you.

Her lips pull up and ghost near your ear, voice vamped over the speakers. “I think someone’s liking this dress a little bit more than me.”

A faltering expression falls over your face and your own eyes avert and follow her stare, twisting your head around until you lock eyes with the person in question.

And of course, it had to be Javier Peña.

He’s already looking right at you. His shoulder perched on the wall over and across the room from where you’re standing. He was accompanied by the new receptionist. Of course. Who had started a couple weeks back. His legs were crossed over and he had a cigarette settled in his one hand and a beer bottle held firmly in the other.

Javier would usually be quick with it, with his tendencies. Winning her over with his slick charm and confidence. But this time he was ignoring anything she had to say, his eyes occupied with something more to his liking.

You.

You match his open attraction and give him that same look back because, why the fuck not? Your gaze following his face and peering down lower at his body.

He looked incredible; he wore a smart white button up shirt that was rolled halfway up his arms, showing his gorgeous golden brown tanned skin. He had tucked his shirt into dark navy jeans and paired them with a black belt, matching it with his typical black leather jacket perched over his one shoulder.

Javier had been eyeing you up for a while, and right now he doesn’t seem to want to keep his desirability for you hidden. His stare is fully distinct and you yourself can’t look away. It makes your body feel giddy, your skin hot as you dig your fingers into your palms. The girl he’s talking to is clearly getting aggravated as she knocks his shoulder, regaining his attention on her once again.

You pull your focus back onto Melissa and she tells you that she’s grabbing another drink and that she’ll be back soon. You give her a small nod, watching her walk away.

What was that moment you and Javier just shared together? You couldn’t be overthinking, could you? You know that intimate look from Javier anywhere, but seeing it on you, targeting you makes every hair on your body stand up.

A voice beside you breaks you out of your withering conscience, and you swiftly turn your head to the interruption.

“How’s your night going so far sweetheart?” Steve questions, his voice strident and raised so he could be heard above the music and gossip.

You show him a tender smile. “Yeah it’s going okay,” you simply reply back, “it’s fine. You enjoying yourself?”

“Going alright,” he says, washing down his words with the remains of his warm and flat beer, lifting the bottle up to his lips and eyeing the busy crowd.

“What y’doing stood over here all on your lonesome?” Steve adds.

You don’t reply. Fuck you must look so sad and lonely if Steve’s come over here to ask you how you are. You look down at your champagne glass, bubbles spreading across the surface before finishing off the rest of the orangey zest flavour in one full swig. Your face winces.

“Was talking to Melissa just a bit ago,” you reply back. “Said she’s just grabbing another drink.”

Unconscious to you, your attention is averted back to Javiers, eyes glazing and clouded over from the intense stare. Steven narrows his eyes and follows your observation, until he leans down to you, his tone low and soft. “Why don’t you get your ass over there and talk to him.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shoulder stiffening in interrogation, “talk to who?”

He looks at you dumbfounded, pointing with his pinky finger into the opposite direction, trying not to make his motions too obvious. “Javi,” he simply says, like it’s a completely clear conclusion. “Come on. Don’t tell me your little crush on him wasn’t noticeable.”

Well shit.

“W-what do you mean?” You stutter, a tense chuckle mixing in with your intonation. “No I don’t. We’re just friends Steve. Why would you think—”

“Sweetheart. You don’t think I see the way you look at him. You ain’t very good at hiding it. It’s written all over your face.”

Your chest feels tight, needle like thorns prickling at your throat and cheeks swelling. You’re panicking from the inside out. If Steve knew, how many others did? Fuck what about Javi?

There’s no point in hiding it from Steve now, so instead of arguing you accept defeat, asking him the question you don’t even know you want the answer to.

“Does Javier know?”

Steve’s eyes dart down at you, “I think we both know Peña’s not the best at seeing things like that. So, I’m afraid that’s a definite no.”

Does his statement give you that sense of relief? Do you feel your heart race decrease to a normal pace knowing that even through Steve knew, nothing would change on Javiers end.

Steve saw the way you looked at his partner, to your unascertained eye. He’d see how your stance would stall whenever he was near, how your gaze would linger on him for far too long, how you’d become a nervous wreck when he’d complement you. And how every time, devastation would rush over you when he’d walk out the bar, with a woman hugged under his shoulder. A women he barely knew. A women who’s name would be forgotten the next morning he woke.

Steve was a good man, and he was good to you, being there for you just like Javier had been. But unlike Javier, Steve was capable of attempting to fix people emotions, so when his arm wraps snug over your shoulder, you know that’s exactly what he’s trying to do.

“You think you’ll ever say anything to him?” Steve inquires, “maybe tell him how you’re feeling?”

You stare at Javier again but only briefly this time. Seeing how he’s back to giving the girl next to him his full attention, and that motion right there, is why you will never say anything.

“No. I don’t think so Steve. I think we can both see how’s he’s pretty occupied right now.”

Steve let’s out a huff, yeah you were right. Typical Peña. Steve tugs at your arm. “Alright then. Come with me. Don’t want you sulking the whole night. We’re gonna have a few drinks.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You’d definitely had a few drinks. Eyelids heavy, body swaying to the song playing and you can feel the alcohol run through you. It’s relaxing, it’s stress free as it heats you up, unravelling the nerves that clutched tightly to your skin since you first walked through the doors, and ever since Javier had looked at you the way that he did.

You actually began to feel…good. Great. Energised. And it was just what you needed to get Javier out of your thoughts, to think about something else entirely, to end your night on a positive.

Steve talks to you about how him and Connie are getting on. He mentions how life is outside work, how his family is back home and the enthusiasm in his voice makes your chest pull, but this time in a happy way. It’s nice to see how well he’s doing, watching how his face lights up when he says that him and Connie have officially settled down.

He talks about how certain cases are going, that him and Javi are getting closer to something big. You don’t mention anything about him bringing Javier into the conversation, because you know how passionate and devoted Steve is to his job, how much effort he puts into his time here.

With all the good Steve gives you, your time together is about to end.

“Uh honey. He’s coming over.” Steve says abruptly, adverting his gaze so his eyes look down as he fiddles with the head of his beer bottle. Steve’s easily able to communicate back to you with just his stance, and it’s not long until someone else joins in on your conversation.

“Nice to see you enjoying yourself,” Javier says to you.

You give him a confident smile as your stare falls down to his lips. You can see the ends of his moustache are slightly wet from the alcohol he’s been drinking. Fuck what are you doing? Your eyes quickly look away as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I am,” you comment truthfully. “Thank you Javi.”

His eyes follow down your body. Now that he’s close to you he can fully admire your dress in all its glory. “And this dress…”, he proclaims, looking up at you again with a smirk, “you do look really beautiful tonight hermosa.”

It’s right there, those words, virtually hanging right on the tip of your tongue. ‘And it’s all for you Javi, it’s always been for you’ you want to say. But instead, you reply back with another thank you Javi.

Javier opens his mouth to talk to Steve, but Steve’s already once step ahead, “I’m gonna go and grab another beer,” he buts, “don’t have too much fun while I’m gone.”

Steve’s off before you can react, his body disappearing into the flurry of people. Leaving you and Javier alone. Great.

“It’s nice to see you let loose cariño,” Javier says, “always working too hard for me aren’t you. I like seeing you like this. Enjoying yourself.”

Javiers cockiness always finds a way to shine through, his dark brown eyes sparkling whimsically.

“Well I have to Javi,” you retort, sarcasm hidden behind your words. “It’s my job to work hard.”

“Yeah I know I know,” he teases. “Still. You’re too good to me.”

You subconsciously clench your thighs together, his words having a massive effect on you, palms flattening out the creases in your dress that rested across your stomach.

“So…,” Javier continues, “come on your own tonight cariño?”

“I did indeed,” you say, and the words leave your lips more bluntly as you would have intended, pairing it with an over exaggerated smile.

His eyebrows furrow together as his hand falls into his front pocket, “you had any boyfriends while you’ve been here?”

You’ve endeavoured around conversations like this with Javier before, whether it was late at night when you’d both stay late in the office or after hours, and every single time you’d shrug off anything to do with your romantic life.

Because there was no romantic life.

“I hope that ain’t coming across as rude darlin. I just never see you with anyone when we’re all out. Give me an update with how you’re settling in.”

You brush aside the hesitation in your voice, showing Javier that his question hadn’t bothered you. “Not really Javi. I mean, there’s been moments with some guys but work takes up a lot of my time. And I’m not really interested in anyone at the moment.”

Big. Fat. Lie.

Javier’s stance shifts, watching you swallow that dishonesty, his eyes glistening and lips curling up, shooting you that too familiar look. “There is someone. Isn’t there?”

“No Javi,” you’re quick to protest. “There isn’t I promise. Just give it up please—”

Javiers quick to nudge in. “I knew it! Is it someone in the office? Go on, who’s the lucky fella?”

You laugh at him awkwardly, “Javi stop it. It’s…it’s nothing serious so just drop it.”

He’s chuckles back at you, adoring the way you always fluster and get agitated when he questions anything about you. Quietness falls between the two of you for a moment, and your body jumps forward when his hand rests on your lower back, touching your bare skin, softly stroking you with his thumb.

“Why are you like that?” He asks, and you can hear how genuine he’s trying to be, the care flowing from each syllable.

Your brains working on multiple tasks; Javiers just asked you a question but how the fuck are you supposed to answer with his hands on you. With nothing in the way. Skin to skin.

“W-why am I like what?” That’s what he said, wasn’t it?

“Always so jumpy around me. Cariño we’ve known each other long enough that you should feel comfortable when you’re around me.”

He’s right, where had your confidence gone? You can still feel the alcohol lingering and buzzing through your system, buts it’s unhelpful. It must be Javier himself, his presence. You turn your body to him, huffing of your honesty, “you…you just make me nervous sometimes Javi.”

“Come on,” he sounds shocked, “what do I do that makes you so nervous.”

“I don’t really know why. You just do.” You know why. “Why are you asking me this anyway.”

He shrugs, “wanna know why so we can get past it. Can’t keep having you on edge around me can we. So go on, enlighten me,” he challenges.

Well maybe it’s because I like you Javier. That every single time I look at you I wish you’d look at me the same way. And even though I’ll never have you, it doesn’t stop me from wanting you as badly as I do right now.

He’s looking at you like you’ve told him something so unforgiving, his body frozen and his eyes widened in a state of surprise. You’re suddenly confused, and why is he looking at you like that? You haven’t even said anything—

“Fuck,” you spurt out, “did I—shit did I just said that out loud.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah you did.”

A cold wave of dread washed over your body and you pray that the ground would just swallow you whole. You want to run away and never look at his face again. You’re embarrassed, you’re dumb. And so fucking stupid. Your confessions just fallen so easily from your lips that you haven’t even registered it.

Javi’s voice is weak, “Cariño. I…listen. You—,”

You palm meets his chest, stopping anything else that was threatening to spew over the two of you. “Don’t say anything Javier. Just…I’ve had a lot to drink okay so… please ignore anything I’ve just said. I don’t. None of it was true so don’t worry.”

Javier tries to carry on this mess that’s unraveling, but you’re too overcome with emotion you turn yourself away from him.

“I’m gonna head off,” you say, foggy eyes looking at the clock on the wall, “my taxis probably outside waiting for me.”

You place your empty wine glass on a table closest to you and move towards the entrance door. You can hear Javier call out your name but you can’t stop your feet as you try not to trip over yourself, the alcohol in your system not helping your situation. You don’t even look back, too afraid that if you look into Javier’s eyes, that look of rejection will have your life crumbling to a stop.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It’s been exactly one week since you’d woken up with that raging headache, body aching and stomached weakened from acidic liquid, that sickening feeling gradually pooling up your throat, ready to spill over. How much did you drink? Surely it wasn’t a lot? The morning after the party you were grateful that your shift was later in the day, because the second you woke up, you felt like shit. It wasn’t until you pulled your body out of bed to swallow a whole glass of water with some aspirin, and forcing a few slices of toast down with it that last night’s happening would creep back into your memory.

And holy fucking shit.

It had to be a dream. A dream that you could erase and never be reminded of again. There was no way in hell you had confessed how you truly felt about Javier to the man himself. That after two long years, your secret had finally come climbing to the surface.

It hurt, and what made things worse was that you knew it going to come out eventually. But in a hazily and drunken confrontation was the last way you pictured it going. Javier was your friend, you worked for him and you had stepped way over the line. You had ruined that strictly professional relationship, that friendship between you both and now you had to work along side him. To see him everyday.

Yeah, you were well and truly fucked.

And that’s why you avoid Javier as much as possible, which for you was going to be a difficult task, as you were his god damn secretary. If he was coming your way you’re going the opposite direction soon after. You hadn’t gotten him his usual coffee you’d get on the way to work for him alongside your own. You hadn’t been out with work colleagues for a drink, knowing indefinitely that he’d be tagging along. If you had received new information, you’d tell Steve, not him. The minute the clock ticks at five, you wouldn’t stay back like you would usually do, you’d head for the door and straight home. You know this embarrassment will come around sooner or later, but if you can avoid it for now, fuck you’re going to do your best to.

You can tell Javier wants to talk to you. You know he wants to go back to that conversation that you left so abruptly. But right you just can’t. You can’t go back to knowing that his dismissal is waiting around the corner, yourself feeling ashamed of your petty and drunken words.

You make your way into the filing room and start by sorting out new documents that had been placed on your desk early this morning. You rip off the post it note that hanged loosely on the top of the pile, the neon note saying ‘please section in order’ ogling back at you. You can make out that writing anywhere. Everywhere you turn he’s always one step ahead, inhabiting all aspects of work life.

Your memory takes you back to the hours you’d spend in here with him, just enjoying the quiet and serenity and simply just…each other.

“I come in here when I need a minute,” Javier says, placing a file in it’s designated spot, “just to get away from it sometimes. Just to be on my own. You know, when shit in this place gets too much.”

You’d treasure that day. Just you and him, having him all to yourself while the world was running wild and crazy around your heads, having him talk about things and stuff he wouldn’t usually talk about, and just being so open with you. Only you.

You brush the memory off, back to regaining attention on the task in hand, with eyes averted down when suddenly the door opens and softly closes behind you. The sound so discreet and barely above a whisper.

Without warning, a sense of heat radiates on your back, a delicate warmth and you turn yourself around, a startled yelp leaving your now parted lips, hands forcefully clutching onto your heavily banging chest.

The face you’re met with breaks your heart.

Javier looked tired, his face was flushed and parts of his hair were hanging out of place, like he’d ran his fingers through it, frustrated. His eyes could paint a thousand pictures, the brown in them becoming lost, unrecognisable, looking at you with an apologetic expression.

Your voice quavers, “fucking hell Javi. Don’t sneak up on me like that. You scared the shit out of me.”

He always finds a way to make you jump and a tight smile pulls on his face from your reaction, a smile that you can see holds more than amusement.

“Sorry darlin,” he apologises, “didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You nod at him in forgiveness, twisting your body around so you’re now facing away from him. Again.

“Anything y’need in here Javi? Thought it was your day off today.”

You can’t bear to look over your shoulder, you can already feel your eyes welling up, how pathetic. The salty tears threatening to pour down your cheeks, leaving a mark of pity on your skin, the wavering sound in your voice prominently giving you away.

“I am off,” he says, “just needed to pop in and collect a few things.”

You hum at his words, don’t you dare give yourself away. You move stacks and files of paper around to keep yourself occupied, anything to stop your emotions getting the better of you.

Javier doesn’t leave. “I came here looking for you too actually,” he adds. “Wanted to have a chat.”

Fuck, here it comes.

By the way you haven’t replied and the way the room is surrounded by silence, Javier carries on. “I know you’ve been avoiding me darlin. And about the other night last week I—“

“Please Javier,” you intervene. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

“Well I wanna,” he states, “we can’t keep going on like this, it’s awkward and uncomfortable and I don’t like it.”

And all because of you. You’ve made it awkward. You’ve made it uncomfortable.

He lightly rests his hand on your upper back, “cariño—“

“What d’you want me to say Javi?” You interrupt him, turning back around so you’re both parallel, “you want me to say that everything I said was true? Huh? Is that what you want? Well it was true. And yes, I’m fucking embarrassed about it.”

He shuffles himself away, unexpected from your hurried outburst, “let me speak. Please.”

How have you become so breathless? You can feel your nails digging into your palms, leaving marks and indents in your skin. A remembrance. Your chest is pounding and hands shaking with adrenaline.

Javier huffs out a sigh, “why didn’t… fuck why didn’t you say anything? I may of looked or acted surprised and it’s because I was. I had no fucking idea and that’s the honest truth. I never expected…”

Gathering enough courage in yourself, you look up at him, praying that he’ll carry on with whatever he’s about to say, to rip this two year old bandaid right off and give you air to breath, to put an end to your ongoing misery.

Instead, he cups your face in his palm, fingers dancing across your jaw. Javier’s never touched you like this, and the warmth you instantly feel sparks all over your skin.

He follows your gaze with a guilt-ridden stare. “Hermosa,” he utters quietly. “Why didn’t you say anything.”

Your lips part in delay, ready to explain yourself. “I-I couldn’t handle the rejection Javi. And we work together it’s so inappropriate, and well…you’re you and I’m me. I’ve liked you for a while and I just knew if I said anything that you’d say no.”

His eyes look deeper into you, like he’s thinking or perhaps, contemplating.

“It’s not a case of no cariño. This isn’t how I do things. Shit—I ain’t a good man. You’re too good for me and I can’t mess things up with you.”

You bow your head at him in understanding, head falling further into his palm. Wait, what does he mean by his first statement?

“You wouldn’t have said no?”

Javier pauses as his feet move closer, his body towering above you. He’s visibly much taller than you and the courage you have to muster up to look up at him is formidable.

“No, I wouldn’t have,” he states.

“But the other women,” you look across to the door, “you’re always…you’ve never been like that with me.”

There it is. That admission. Having confessed how you’d noticed how Javier acted with other women, and how after so long you’d wanted it to be you.

“I know. But you’re not those other women querida. You never were.”

The both of you stay silent, gazing at each other, inhaling in one another’s air, chests so near that if you move an inch closer, just ever so slightly…your body would be pushed up and touching his.

His thumb moves from your cheek and across your face, landing on your bottom lip. Your mouth parts in surprise, your heavy breath coating his finger that starts to slowly rub side to side.

His eyes drop down to your lips, his eyelids becoming hooded, lustful.

“And after all this time, I thought you were just shy.”

You whimper at his words, and Javier can sense the tension drifting away, his comment and touch becoming affective. Having dreamt of his digits against your skin and face, his fingertips gliding over the plushness of your mouth. It’s close, so so close that you could take it into your mouth, to taste him, to swirl your tongue around him and suck.

“But instead it was the complete opposite…,” his tone lower in octave, “wasn’t it hermosa.”

You can’t speak, voice lost and unforgivable as he gives you a subtle glimpse of divulged seduction.

“Tell me querida,” he whispers in a soft command, “is that what you want? You want me all to yourself?”

With thighs clenched together you give in, a rising pressure felt yearning in your core. “Fuck Javi…” you whine, “yes. Yes I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

He leans his face down, his mouth now level with yours and pulls your face just a smidge with his thumb and index finger on your chin, until finally his mouth touches yours. Yourself instantly embracing him.

You’ve kissed a few men, and that had been a long time ago. They had been rushed, forceful holds and overall disappointing, but you knew the second Javiers lips landed on top of yours, that it would never be like those other times.

He starts off with gentle pecks, each one lasting longer than the previous, and only when Javier senses no hesitation on your behalf, he pulls your mouth in deeper, his tongue licking across your lips as an invitation, and you grant him access so willingly.

His arm wraps around your frame, hugging your waist as his other hand grips the shelf behind you, pushing your back flushed and up against it while still keeping your lips glued to his.

His tongue maps out the inside of your mouth. He taste like cigarettes and minty toothpaste, and the taste is overwhelmingly addictive. Like your own personal drug. You want more. You begin to copy his actions until the both of your tongues are dancing with one another, a small but noticeable moan swimming down his throat.

Javier draws back and kisses the skin on your jaw and the dip of your neck, his voice mumbled. “Christ querida you taste so fuckin’ sweet. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do that.”

You peer up at him with lustful eyes, fingers tugging on his shirt to keep yourself upright. “Me too Javi. I want—”

You don’t particularly know what you’re asking for. You know you want to continue kissing him, but if that throbbing that you feel in between your legs isn’t released, you think you’ll pass out.

“What is it cariño?” He asks, “you want me to show you what I’ve wanted to give you after all this time?”

In response you clash his lips back down onto yours and Javier sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. His one hand threads though your hair and the others at the seam of your skirt, fingers ruffling the tight material up your hips, and only until your own tries to stop his motions.

You’re panting, fighting against the lifting of your skirt, trying to keep it down and in place. “Fuck Javier wait. Jus’—just stop for a second.“

Which his does, stopping his greedy movements immediately, pulling both his mouth and hands away. His lips are swollen and hold a reddish hue, shining with the mixture of saliva, and the image only makes your situation worse.

“You okay? What is it? You don’t want—“

“No,” you’re active to protest. “Wait not no as in— yes I do. I’ve wanted this. I want this. It’s just…well, I’ve never actually…”

His eyebrows raise, “you’ve never?”

Please don’t make me say it, you think. Please don’t make me say it. Can he see how his questions made the hairs on your arms prick up? Can he recognise that innocence shine in your pupils?

And by the way his eyes widen, he may of just got it.

“Like at all?”

Your eyes shut in embarrassment, cheeks hot and humid as your stand small and hopeless in front of him. You inch your skirt that was creased on your thighs lower, wishing your clothes would hide the inexperience and bashfulness. Javier, the man’s who’s known around the embassy as being a womaniser, who’s fucked more woman than he can count on both hands, is stood over you. A woman, who has no knowledge about intimacy.

What could be more embarrassing than that.

“Hey,” Javiers speaks. “Cariño, look at me.”

Your eyes flood when you stare back, his features covered in empathy and compassion. “You know that’s okay, don’t you,” he says truthfully. “No need to feel embarrassed by it. We all gotta start somewhere.”

“I know Javi, “you agree, “but I’m 25 and I should have—.”

“Shhh,” Javier interrupts, “none of that hermosa.”

His voice is calm, reassuring and earnest. Mind analysing your own words. “Do you want it to be me?” He interjects, “is that what you’re trying to say?”

You nod your head at him, yes. God yes.

Javier tucks a loose strand of hair over your ear, “we don’t have to do anything right now. Not if you don’t want to.”

You’re quick to assure him. “I-I do Javi. I really do. I want it to be you. It’s just, I’m not really…I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Visible to you, that sets a fire in Javier. He likes your purity, your innocence, and you can see by the way his pupils dilate to black, hiding that chocolatey brown that would usually flourish through them.

“So say it,” Javier directs, “what is it you want right now. You’re in charge cariño. We’ll go at your pace.”

And again, you don’t really know. “I want anything.”

Javiers grin is pure sin. “Anything?” He interrogates. “Well what would you say if I wanted to get down on my knees right now and eat that pretty pussy of yours. Would you like that hermosa?”

Holy. Shit.

Your back arches in anticipation, your cunt clenching from his filthy mouth and suggestion. “Fuck Javi. Yes please. Yes I want that.”

Javier kisses you again with fervor, trailing his marks down your covered body until his knees hit the carpet floor, shuffling your pencil skirt up so it rests comfortably on your hips, his face now level with your clothed core, shielded by your tights and panties.

“Mmm so pretty querida. Tell me, has anyone ever kissed you here?”

You lick you lips, hands resting on top his shoulders, whimpering out a simple no. No one’s ever touched me or kissed me there.

Javiers quick to soothe. “You just relax for me cariño. If anything I do doesn’t feel good or pleasant you let me know. This is for you, okay?”

You bow your head at him as he drags the last remains of material off, the fabric now pooling at your feet. This is the first time a man’s seen you so openly, and you can feel a tingle when the breeze hits your swollen clit. You know you’re already wet, very wet. Your neglected folds covered in your arousal and evident and right in front of him, glistening and eager, ready for whatever he wants to give you.

Javier can see how your panties are completely ruined, bringing them up to inspect before popping them in his back pocket. “This may be your first time doing this cariño. But fuck your pussy’s so ready for it. You’re so fucking wet for me.”

Javi brings his middle finger up to your wet folds and your knees instantly buckle underneath you, your hands reaching out to the shelves at the sides to keep you up.

“H-holy fuck. Javi—”

Javier hoists your one leg over his shoulder, hands gripping the flesh of your bare thigh to hold you steady.

He pulls on your hood, your clit pulsing and he pokes his tongue out, flicking the muscle on your needy bundle of nerves, giving you soft and delicate stokes as he gets you used to the new sensation.

“You still with me baby?” Javier checks in, “feeling alright?”

“Yes Javi just—please don’t stop. Fuck it feels so good.”

Javier contradicts, “I ain’t planning on stopping querida. Not until I feel this pussy come on my tongue.”

He gets back to it, moving his licks lower and lower into your folds, his nose catching your clit with each pull of his mouth, and the gesture has your fingers gripping into his hair and pulling at the base, causing Javier to hiss against your cunt.

It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before. You knew that it would feel good but this good? It’s feels fucking amazing. His tongues so warm, finding his way around your sensitivity, changing his motion when a certain spot has you whining out for him.

“Oh my god, Javi—,” you moan loudly.

“Shhh,” he mumbles, “gonna have to be quiet hermosa, don’t want anyone hearing or catching us do we?”

Through all the kissed and the touches and everything else, you had blatantly forgot that the door was open, and anyone could walk in. “Fuck Javier wait, someone could walk—“

“Already sorted that out doll,” he interrupts, “locked the door after I got in here.” This fucker.

You relax after his words, knowing nobody is going to walk in, to disrupt your inappropriate affair. But somehow you do like that excitement, that feeling of being caught, of being seen.

For someone’s who never done this before, the moment that ounce of pleasure flows through your body you do like to show it. The way you moan out for him, how you’re so confidently whimpering and pleading him.

Javier starts to get hungry with it, lapping at your folds and clit with eager flicks and sucks and kisses as he brings his index finger up and teases your entrance, before slowly easing it into you.

Your walls clench around his finger tightly. You weren’t new to masturbation and had used your own to get yourself off, but Javiers finger was already becoming a slight stretch compared to yours.

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “Just breathe for me cariño. Need to open you up. Make sure you’re ready for when it’s time to take my cock.”

“Fuck o-okay. Just… go slow,” you whine, bringing your hand up to cover your open mouth with the back of your hand, muffling your vocal and desperate moans.

He slowly eases his finger in and out, just like you asked, and then switches to curving his digit in an upwards motion, hitting that spot inside that’s so euphoric and you whine into the air.

“You just can’t keep quiet can you.” And he fucking loves it. “Pussy feels too good you have to tell the whole office, don’t you hermosa.”

“I can’t—fuck I’m sorry Javi. It feels…god you feel amazing.”

At a slow pace he inserts another finger, his tongue mapping fixed circles on your bundle of nerves while he pushes in, the pleasure he’s giving you overcoming the stretch his fingers are pulling from you.

You look down at him. His hand squeezes the flesh of your thigh, his eyes fluttering closed and concentrated. You can feel his lips vibrate when he moans into your cunt, and it turns you on beyond belief that he’s enjoying this as much as you are.

You can feel it; your core starts to tingle, your lip quivers as Javiers name falls seamlessly from it, oh fuck Javi. yes Javi I’m so close. please don’t stop Javi. He pulls his mouth even closer to your cunt, swirling your hips to help hit your orgasm that’s threatening to spill over.

Javier barely removes his mouth from you, “that’s it querida. Tan buena chica. I can feel you’re close. Go on, let go for me.”

“Oh my god, Javi—”

His words tip you over the edge, your pussy let’s go and your orgasm ripples through you, your walls clenching down hard on his fingers as he continues his movements, your release dripping and drooling down his fingers and knuckles as he continues to play and flick your pulsating clit, making sure you experience every single part of it.

Once Javi knows that you’ve come down from your high, he removes his mouth and digits from your sensitive cunt, pulling himself up so he’s stood in front of you.

You look at him, his moustache and chin are covered in your orgasm as well as his fingers. He brings them up to his face and plops them into his mouth, keeping his eyes locked on yours as you watch him clean the remains of your taste off of them.

“You taste fucking sweet hermosa. If I knew this is what you were hiding from me, I would’ve done this a long time ago.”

Your mouth finds his lips again, and it shocks him. You can just taste yourself as you kiss your way into his mouth, and you can feel your pussy become needy again. Wanting his cock inside you.

With a shaky hand you cup his bulge, and fuck he’s so hard. He feels thick and his jeans become even tighter and restrained. You squeeze his length and he moans into your mouth.

Oh how the tables have turned.

You pull at his belt loops, fiddling with the buckle until Javier is quick to put a stop to your wondering hands.

You pout at him and he lets out a chuckle. “I ain’t gonna take your virginity in the filing room baby.”

No of course he isn’t. Even though you desperately want him to.

“When Javier? I don’t want to wait any longer.” You skin your fingertips over his crotch, “really really want you inside me.”

“Fuck querida,” Javier says, wrapping his hand around your wrist, “so needy now aren’t you. You want my cock inside you that bad? Want me to fill you up?”

“Mmm,” is all you can say, rubbing your bare pussy on his jeans.

“And I’ll give it to you baby,” he promises, “but not right now. Let me do this right, okay? Let me take my time with you.”

You smile at him. You’re not disappointed, because how could you be? Impatient? Definitely. Now you’ve become exposed to the newness of your shared sexual desires, you want it all. You want to learn everything. And you know it’ll come, but right now as he said, he wants to take his time with you.

And right now, you have all the time in the world.

Tysm for reading!🤍

🦋 Tan buena chica - such a good girl 🦋

#pedro pascal smut #javier peña smut #narcos smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña narcos #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos fanfiction

516 notes · View notes

yandere-sins · 2 months ago

Text

Yan-Poll #38

#MerMay 2025 Special

"And here-" Reaching into the drawer beside his desk, the Professor took out a large stack of documents, placing it before you solemnly. "-are the files and information you need to get started on your own project. What do you say, do you feel up to the task?"

You gulped.

There it was, finally, the chance of a lifetime. After dedicating years to studying marine life, you were finally allowed to work in this field and given an opportunity to prove yourself and your abilities. The IML Research Facility hadn't been your first choice, but it was the only one that accepted you—the field had turned out to be much more competitive than you thought.

As far as you had seen, it was huge. Huge enough to make you sign all kinds of NDA just to visit them for an interview. It was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time, but you had been very impressed with all the machinery and enclosures you had been shown. They had tanks and machines for every kind of species, they even started successfully housing orcas, as you had been told. Everything was provided, from a place to live free of charge to fresh food three times a day. A perfect environment to study and focus on work without disruptions.

From what you heard from the other workers, the pay was good, and you had enough days off to recharge after the busy work season. Besides, you'd get to work with professionals, trail them for the first few days, and then get assigned your own project to handle how you saw fit. What more could one need?

With nervous hands, you reached for the papers, but the Professor laid his palm down on them before you could. You looked up at him in surprise, finding him smiling warmly and with the confidence of a man his age. He didn't just lead this facility, he was also a well-known face in the scene, giving regular speeches and traveling the world to convey the message of how important it was to take care of the ocean and all its inhabitants.

He was everything you wanted to be.

"I see a lot of potential in you," he admitted, sounding so convincing it almost made you cry. Many had doubted your choices and ambitions, but here, you were welcome. You were between your own kind of people.

"I want you here, at this facility, helping us develop great things for all living beings. But I need you to know..."

Ah, you thought. Here it comes. The catch. It was too good to be true.

However, against your expectations, the Professor's grin widened as he let out a hearty laugh.

"Once you start, you might never want to leave! Most of our researchers just can't separate from their protegees anymore!"

You let out a small laugh, too, as the pressure vanished from your body, the bad news you expected never coming. Nothing wrong with being passionate about your work, right? You could see yourself falling into this pattern as well if everything was as wonderful as you hoped.

"All I need you to do," the Professor instructed, pointing at the pile of documents in front of you. "Is to sign the contract on top of here, and in a few minutes, you'll be out and about, learning the ropes and meeting your new best friend—your new workplace! We also prepared a little welcome treat for you in your room."

The Professor winked at you, fumbling with the folder on top of the papers until he pulled a work contract from it. It seemed to be about a few pages with neat rows of sentences. Many sentences, in a small font, that made it incredibly hard to read.

"Oh, wow, uh, you are so prepared!" you mumbled, taken aback that you were supposed to sign right away. Didn't everybody always say you get some time to think about it? Sleep over it? You couldn't possibly sign it right now, or did you?

"How about I take this home with me and give it some thought and get back to you?" you offered, reaching for the pile of paper when the Professor's hand once again came down on it, this time with an audible thud, tearing the documents from your grip.

"I'm afraid," he sighed, "that isn't possible."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's just..." He got up from his chair, turning towards the impressive wall of photographs and awards behind him with a thoughtful expression.

"We at IML are very strict about our research going out. People out there," he clicked his tongue in disapproval, "they are like seagulls. They just can't get enough and steal everything—even our contracts. We can't risk losing another battle in front of a judge just because they copied and overwrote all of our hard work. They will misuse and abuse all of our creations and studies for their capitalistic goals. All while we fight for those without voices. Once someone leaves the facility... they won't be allowed back. To protect what needs to be protected. You understand that, right?"

The Professor looked back at you with a defeated yet unwavering expression, and you gave him a slow nod. To be fair, you didn't really get it. Weren't those wanting to see the research also interested in protecting the ocean like the IML Research Facility? Yet, you knew firsthand how competitive this field was, given your lack of work opportunities.

Staring at the papers in front of you, you couldn't help but want to read through them before signing something that was so preciously protected. But on the other hand, this might just be the chance. If you left without risking anything, who knew if you'd ever find something as distinguished and aligned with your own goal as this facility was?

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

#MerMay 2025 #yan-poll #yandere talk #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere tw #yandere fanfiction #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere drabbles #yandere oneshot #yandere stories #yandere writing #yandere imagines

89 notes · View notes

trippiexlove · 2 months ago

Text

Story Masterlist

Main Masterlist - if you would like to be added to my tag list comment below. Have a request? Click on this link to drop it ☺️ ENJOY!

Ch.3

Previous Part

The automatic doors of the hospital hissed open, releasing a wave of antiseptic air that usually signaled the start of Evren's eventful day. Today, however, a knot of unease tightened in her chest as she swiped her badge and headed towards the familiar bustle of the nurses' station.

"Morning, sis," Zahria chirped, already immersed in charting but glancing up with a warm smile. "Ready for another day of saving lives?"

Evren managed a weak smile in return, the earlier anticipation for her work already beginning to fray. "Morning. Hopefully, it'll be more saving lives and less getting harassed by Dr. Rhodes."

"Don't count on it," Zahria chuckled knowingly. "He looked like a thundercloud brewing when you left the other day."

"Tell me about it," Evren sighed, her gaze drifting towards the posted surgical schedule. It was routine to check her assignments first thing. Her eyes scanned the list, finally landing on her name next to a complex laparoscopic cholecystectomy she'd been prepping for all week. A small surge of professional satisfaction flickered, only to be extinguished as she noticed another name scrawled over hers: Martinez, P.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She reread the schedule, double-checking the date and the patient's name. It was the same surgery. Why had she been taken off?

"Something wrong?" Zahria noticed Evren's perplexed expression.

"I was supposed to be on this cholecystectomy," Evren said, pointing to the schedule. "I prepped the patient yesterday and everything."

Zahria leaned closer, her own brow creasing. "Really? I didn't hear anything about a change in staffing." She glanced around the busy station. "You think Rhodes did this?"

But Evren's gut churned with a unsettling feeling. This wasn't a typical last-minute shuffle. It felt pointed. She remembered Dr. Rhodes's forced smile and the dismissive tone he'd adopted after she'd rejected his dinner invitation. A cold realization began to dawn.

"I'm going to check the assignment board in the OR," Evren said, a newfound resolve hardening her voice. She needed to know what was going on. As she walked away, Zahria's concerned gaze followed her, a silent acknowledgment of the brewing storm. The familiar energy of the hospital now felt charged with a subtle, personal antagonism, casting a shadow over the start of Evren's day.

The sterile, cool air of the OR floor offered no comfort as Evren scanned the assignment board. Just as at the nurses' station, her name was conspicuously absent from the cholecystectomy list, replaced by Pamela Martinez. A knot of frustration tightened in her chest. This wasn't a mistake; it was deliberate.

She found Dr. Rhodes in the doctors' lounge, leaning against the counter, a half-empty mug of coffee in his hand and a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he scrolled through his phone.

"Dr. Rhodes," Evren began, her voice carefully neutral despite the simmering anger within her.

He looked up, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Oh, Evren. Good morning. Something I can help you with?" His tone was overly casual, a subtle power play.

"Yes. I noticed I was taken off the schedule for the laparoscopic cholecystectomy today," She subtly raised her eyebrow "I was under the impression I'd be assisting."

Dr. Rhodes took a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to her, feigning nonchalance. "Ah, yes. There was a slight change in staffing. Melanie needed the experience."

"But I've been prepping for this case all week," Evren pointed out, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. "I reviewed the patient's history, gathered the necessary equipment..."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Of course, Evren, and I appreciate your initiative. But sometimes, these things happen. We need to be flexible in a dynamic environment like the OR."

His explanation felt flimsy, a transparent excuse. "And what will I be doing instead?" she pressed.

He finally met her eyes, and the subtle shift in his expression confirmed her suspicions. There was a glint of something akin to triumph in his gaze. "Well, we need someone to meticulously review the post-operative charts in the ICU. The lab is backed up, so your assistance with morning blood draws would be invaluable. Efficient patient care is paramount, after all."

Evren stared at him, a wave of disbelief washing over her. Chart reviews and blood draws were tasks typically assigned to new nurses or those with less experience in the OR. It was a clear demotion, a pointed message.

"With all due respect, Dr. Rhodes," she said, her voice now edged with a steeliness he couldn't ignore, "those tasks are well below my current responsibilities and skill level."

He chuckled softly, a condescending sound that grated on her nerves. "Nonsense, Evren. Every task is important in patient care. It's about being a team player, wouldn't you agree? Besides," he added, his gaze lingering on her a moment too long, "it's a good opportunity to... broaden your horizons."

The thinly veiled insinuation hung in the air. He was making it clear that her refusal had consequences, and he was enjoying wielding his authority.

Evren clenched her fists subtly at her sides. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her anger. She turned to leave, the weight of his petty retaliation settling heavily on her shoulders.

As she walked away, she could feel his gaze on her back, a silent, arrogant smirk that fueled her resolve to document every single instance of his unprofessional behavior. This wasn't just about a surgery anymore; it was about respect and her professional integrity.

~Later That Day~

The discourse of the hospital cafeteria was a familiar lunchtime hum, a mix of clattering trays, muffled conversations, and the insistent beeping of a nearby microwave. Evren sat across from Zahria and Kim, the lukewarm pasta salad on her tray largely untouched. She'd recounted the morning's events, the dismissive conversation with Dr. Rhodes replaying in her mind like a broken record.

Zahria's usual bright demeanor was clouded with indignation. "That entitled-I can't believe he actually said that! Taking you off a surgery you were prepped for just because you won't go out with him."

Kim, a petite woman with a no-nonsense attitude honed by years of navigating the hospital's social and professional landscape as Dr. Orton's wife, listened intently, her brow furrowed. "He specifically told you to do charts and blood draws?"

Evren nodded, picking at a piece of lettuce. "Word for word. Said it was about being a 'team player' and 'broadening my horizons' The condescension was dripping off him."

"Oh, I've seen that charming side of Cody before," Kim said, a hint of steel in her voice. "Randy's had a few run-ins with him over the years. His daddy poured a lot of money into this hospital. He's got a Napoleon complex the size of Texas."

"It's just so frustrating," Evren sighed, finally putting her fork down. "I feel like he's deliberately trying to make me feel incompetent. And it's working, a little. I keep second-guessing myself."

Zahria reached across the table and squeezed Evren's hand. "Don't let him get to you, girl. You're one of the best nurses in the OR. Everyone knows it. This is just him throwing a tantrum because you wouldn't go to dinner with his creepy ass."

"But what do I do?" Evren asked, her voice laced with uncertainty. "If I go to HR, it'll be my word against his. He's been here longer, he's a surgeon, his dad donated millions.. they'll take his side."

Kim leaned forward, placing a hand on one of Evren's, her expression serious. "That's what he wants you to think. But you're not powerless here, Evren. Zahria's right, you need to document everything. Every task he assigns that's below your level, every condescending remark, the dates and times. Build a solid record."

"And talk to other nurses," Zahria added. "Has he pulled this kind of crap with anyone else?"

Evren thought for a moment. "I've heard whispers... a few of the younger nurses have mentioned feeling uncomfortable with his attention, but no one's ever filed a formal complaint."

Kim nodded. "That's often the case. People are afraid of retaliation. But if you have a solid record, and if others are willing to corroborate... it strengthens your case significantly."

"Randy always says, 'Sunlight is the best disinfectant,'" Kim continued. "The more you bring it out into the open, the harder it is for people like him to operate in the shadows. And honestly, Evren, what he's doing isn't just unprofessional, it could be bordering on harassment."

Evren felt a flicker of hope ignite within her. She wasn't alone in this. "So, you think I should really consider going to HR?"

Kim exchanged a look with Zahria. "At the very least, get your ducks in a row. Document everything. Talk to HR and see what their procedures are. You don't have to file a formal complaint immediately, but knowing your options is important. Don't let him bully you into silence."

Zahria chimed in, her usual fiery spirit returning. "Yeah, screw that guy. We got your back, Evren. You're not going through this alone."

A small, genuine smile finally touched Evren's lips. Knowing she had the support of her friends made the daunting prospect of confronting Dr. Rhodes a little less terrifying. The untouched pasta salad still sat before her, but the knot of anxiety in her stomach had loosened slightly, replaced by a burgeoning sense of resolve.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway seemed to hum a weary tune, mirroring Evren's exhaustion. She swiped her badge, the green light a small victory signaling the end of a frustrating day. Just as she was about to push through the automatic doors leading to the outside, a familiar voice drawled from behind her.

"Leaving so soon, Evren? I thought you were enjoying your... varied tasks today."

Dr. Rhodes leaned against the wall, a smug look on his face, Icy blue eyes staring at her, clearly fishing for a reaction.

Evren turned, meeting his gaze with a stoic expression. She refused to let him see the turmoil his actions had caused. "Dr. Rhodes." Her tone was flat, devoid of any emotion he could latch onto.

His smile tightened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features at her lack of reaction. "Such dedication to the mundane. It's admirable." He paused, waiting for her to rise to the bait.

Evren simply nodded curtly. "Night, Dr. Rhodes." She turned again and walked towards the exit, leaving him standing there, his attempt at provocation falling flat.

Outside, the cooler evening air was a welcome change. Zahria was waiting near the doors, scrolling through her phone.

"Hey, you good?" Zahria said, looking up with a smile.

Evren let out a long breath. "You have no idea. But at least it's over."

"Did he say anything else to you?" Zahria tilted her head, her eyes full of concern.

Evren nodded grimly. "Oh yeah, just now but I didn't give him a reaction. The man is unbelievably petty."

Zahria's jaw tightened. "I swear, one of these days..."

Evren chuckled humorlessly. "Save your energy. Y'all gave me some good advice at lunch. I'm going to start documenting everything."

"Good," Zahria clapped her on the shoulder. "you got this"

They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments towards the parking lot.

"Well," Zahria said, stopping at her car, "I'm heading this way. You good to drive home?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just tired."

"Alright. Text me later, let me know how you're doing. And if you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate."

"Thanks, sis. I will." Evren gave her a small hug before heading to her own car.

The aroma of sesame chicken and fried rice filled Evren's cozy room. Curled up in bed in an oversized shirt, the remnants of her takeout containers on the nightstand, she finally felt a semblance of relaxation. Her phone buzzed with a new message.

From: Fatu, Joshua #1759 How was your day, ma? Hope it was better than mine

Evren hesitated for a moment before typing her reply, deciding to confide in him.

To: Fatu, Joshua #1759 It was frustrating. My work was made unnecessarily difficult by someone being petty and vindictive. Thank God I am off for a couple days

A few minutes later, his reply came.

From: Fatu, Joshua #1759 Damn, I'm sorry to hear that ma. You wanna talk about it?

Evren took a deep breath and began to type, the words flowing more easily than she expected. She recounted the events of her day, Dr. Rhodes's behavior, and her feelings of being undermined. When she finished, she simply sent it, a sense of vulnerability washing over her.

The reply came quickly, and it was different from his usual straightforward tone.

From: Fatu, Joshua #1759 That's fucked up. You don't deserve to be treated like that. It says a lot more about him than it does about you. Remember that. You're strong and you're good at what you do. Don't let some insecure mf dim your light. If I was there, I'd- never mind we not even gon' get into that. Just know say the word and I got you.

Evren read his words again, a warmth spreading through her chest. It wasn't just the sympathy, but the underlying protectiveness in his message. This glimpse of a softer, more caring side of Jey was unexpected and surprisingly comforting. Despite the physical distance and the circumstances of their connection, a genuine sense of understanding seemed to be forming between them. She typed a simple thank you, wishing him a good night. Turning off her phone, a small smile gracing her lips as she drifted off to sleep.

The stale air of the prison phone bank buzzed with the murmur of hushed conversations. Jey gripped the receiver, the plastic warm against his ear as he waited for his call to connect. When Jimmy finally answered, his voice was a familiar, slightly chaotic sound on the other end.

"Yo, what up, uce? Figured you were gonna call. Everything good on yo' end?" Jimmy's usual playful tone was present, though Jey could detect a subtle undercurrent he couldn't quite place.

"Yeah, same old shit. Just checkin' in on things your way," Jey replied, keeping his voice low, aware of the guards patrolling nearby.

"Things goin' as they should," Jimmy said vaguely. "You know how it goes."

Jey let out a dry chuckle. "Tell me bout it. Anything I need to know about?" He kept his tone casual, fishing for information without being explicit.

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Nah, man. Just the usual headaches. You know how it is with everything. What you been up to?"

Jey nodded, even though Jimmy couldn't see him. He decided to tread carefully. "Right, right. I been keepin' busy with writin' and stuff."

Jimmy's tone immediately shifted, a playful teasing entering his voice. "Oh yeah? Writin', huh? Last time you were 'writin',' you were penning angry letters to that ref who called that bogus foul in our high school game."

Jey rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself. "Nah, man, it's not like that. Just connectin' with someone, you know?"

"Connectin' with someone?" Jimmy repeated, drawing out the words with exaggerated curiosity. "Since when did my antisocial twin brother start 'connectin' with people'? You finally join one of those prison book clubs?"

"Nah, nothing like that," Jey said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just somebody."

"Ooh, I see you uce!" Jimmy exclaimed, practically singing the word. "Well, well, well. Look at you, Jey-bird, making friends. Does this 'someone' got a name? Or are they just a figment of that lonely incarcerated imagination of yours?"

Jey sighed. "Man, quit playin'. It's just someone I'm writin' to. That's all." He wasn't ready to admit, even to Jimmy, the strange pull he felt towards Evren. "Just a friend."

Jimmy snorted. "A 'friend' you're suddenly talkin' all mysterious about? Come on, twin. Spill it. You finally found yourself a pen pal? Someone to keep your spirits up in the concrete jungle?"

Jey hesitated. "Somethin' like that." He shifted the phone to his other ear. "Look, man, that ain't really what I called about." He needed to change the subject. "There's somethin' I need you to do for me."

The playful tone in Jimmy's voice immediately faded, replaced by a note of seriousness. "What's up? What do you need?"

Jey paused again, glancing around the phone bank before lowering his voice even further. "I need you to do somethin' for me. Discreetly. No one else can know about this, you hear me?"

"I gotcha uce. What do you need me to do?" His voice laced with a bit of concern.

Jey took a deep breath, the weight of his request settling in his chest. "There's this girl... her name is Evren. She works at Atlanta Central"

Jey explained what he needed from him. Jimmy didn't hesitate. Reassuring his twin that he'll do what he asks of him.

The call ended, leaving Jey standing in the noisy phone bank, the weight of his request heavy in the silence that followed. He had just pulled his twin brother, his connection to the outside, into this unexpected corner of his life. Feeling confident in his brother he made his way back to his cell as they started lock down for the night.

What y'all think Jey got Jimmy doing for Evren? How are y'all liking it so far, and what do y'all want to see happen next?

Previous Part

If you would like to be added to the taglist let me know below :)

📓 Taglist: @dollface110-blog , @therealh18 , @skyesthebomb , @moxley99 , @fafomama , @queeny23 , @duhitzkay380 , @xbriexx , @mindairy , @tribalchief2112 , @theusotwinzcom , @yana3sworld , @baybehkay , @jazzyboo123-blog1 , @uceyliyahh , @transparentphantomface , @bossbitch-25 , @sheaabuttaababyy , @emotionalhottiee , @jeyusosqueen , @pinkwithhearts , @dollface110-blog , @purplementalitybluebird , @moxley99

#jey uso #jey uso x black oc #jey uso smut #jeyuso #jey uso x black fem oc #jey uso x black reader #wwe #main event jey uso #trippiexlove #talks with trips

72 notes · View notes

pretzel-box · 10 months ago

Text

-2- THE WALLS WHICH WILL EAT US

word count: 5,2k

tags: GN!reader, graphic mentions of panic attacks, getting attacked

summary: You get shipped to the Hadal Blackside and start your new mission to get the crystal and Z-13, Sebastian Solace. But it seems like the visitors of the Blackside are getting you first.

The sharp scent of various chemicals invaded your senses the moment you arrived at the dock, where Urbanshade housed their high-tech submarines for underwater expeditions—expeditions much like the one you were about to embark on. The dock itself was a massive, bustling hub, with staff members moving swiftly through the vast hall, each absorbed in their own tasks. Cargo was being transported, machines were being meticulously maintained, and the air was filled with the constant hum of activity, all contributing to the strange, industrial rhythm of the place.

The dock was located within a closed hall, nestled just below water level in one of Urbanshade’s many sprawling facilities. From where you stood, you could see the vast array of technology they had developed, each piece funded by the considerable wealth of people like your father. It was impossible not to feel a sense of awe at the sheer scale of their operations. Urbanshade’s business was far more than you had imagined; mining oil from the ocean depths seemed like it was just a side hustle for them, a mere footnote in their grander, more mysterious endeavors.

As you took in your surroundings, the reality of Urbanshade’s reach began to sink in. The size of the submarines alone was staggering, each one a marvel of engineering, designed to withstand the crushing pressures of the deep sea. Workers in identical uniforms moved like clockwork, each performing their duties with practiced efficiency. The atmosphere was one of cold, calculated precision, a far cry from the chaotic hustle you had expected.

“Hey, over here.” A voice cut through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. A tall man, dressed in the same standard-issue uniform as the others, stood before you. His demeanor was strict, his expression unreadable. He was clearly used to the environment, his posture rigid and commanding. This man was your guide, assigned to escort you through the facility, ensuring you didn’t stray from the carefully laid path Urbanshade had set for you.

“Follow me,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned on his heel and began to walk, expecting you to follow without hesitation.

You fell into step behind him, your mind racing as you tried to absorb everything at once. The guide led you through a series of corridors, each more sterile and unwelcoming than the last. The walls were lined with thick metal plating, a stark reminder of the underwater pressures that lurked just beyond. Occasionally, you caught glimpses of other workers, their faces blank as they passed by, absorbed in their own duties.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Urbanshade was preparing you for. The deep levels of the ocean were a place of mystery, danger, and unimaginable pressure, both physically and mentally. And yet, here you were, about to be plunged into its depths with little more than a vague idea of what awaited you.

The guide finally stopped in front of a heavy, reinforced door. He glanced at you, his expression softening ever so slightly, before pressing a button on the wall. The door slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing the medical station beyond.

"Standard procedure," the guide said, his voice less harsh now, as if trying to offer some semblance of comfort. "They just need to make sure you’re fit for the journey ahead. Nothing to worry about."

You nodded, stepping through the doorway into the sterile, clinical environment of the medical station. The room was starkly lit, with white walls and gleaming medical equipment arranged neatly along the perimeter. A team of doctors and nurses, all dressed in pristine white uniforms, waited for you inside. Their faces were a mix of professionalism and mild curiosity, as though you were just another specimen to be examined before being sent on your way.

As the door closed behind you, sealing you in the room, the reality of your situation began to weigh heavily on you. You had to pass this final checkpoint, a thorough examination to ensure you were physically prepared for the journey ahead before getting the one-way ticket to hell.

The doctors gestured for you to sit on a cold metal chair in the center of the room. You did so, feeling the coolness seep through your clothes as they began their work, checking your vital signs, drawing blood, and performing a series of tests designed to assess your fitness for the perilous journey.

All the while, your mind kept drifting back to the massive submarines and the dark, unknown depths they were built to explore. You couldn’t shake the feeling that once you boarded one of those vessels, there would be no turning back. The only way out was through, and whatever lay ahead in the deep ocean was as vast and unknowable as the abyss itself.

As the medical team finished their assessment, the door slid open again, and your guide reappeared. His expression was as stern as before, but there was a slight nod of approval as he looked at you.

“You’re cleared,” he said simply, stepping aside to let you exit the room. “Now, let’s get you suited up. It’s time.”

With a deep breath, you followed him out of the medical station.

After the medical examination, the guide led you back through the labyrinth of hallways, deeper into the heart of the facility. Your mind raced as you walked, the sterile environment doing little to calm your nerves. You were heading toward something monumental, something that would change the course of your life, but the details were still murky, shrouded in the secrecy of Urbanshade’s operations.

Finally, you arrived at another reinforced door, larger and more imposing than the last. The guide swiped a keycard through a panel, and the door slid open with a deep, resonant hiss. Inside, a small team of technicians was bustling around a large metal chamber—your submarine. The sight of it sent a shiver down your spine. It looks like a giant dark prison that would suffocate you slowly once you step inside.

“Suit up,” the guide instructed, gesturing toward a nearby rack where a diving suit hung waiting for you.

You approached the suit, eyeing it with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. It was sleek, made from a dark, heavy material that felt both flexible and incredibly durable. The suit was designed to withstand the crushing pressures of the deep sea and most of the things that were swimming in the water such as tiny bacteria, and as you ran your fingers over it, you could feel the quality of the suit.

With some help from the technicians, you began the process of donning the suit. They worked with swift efficiency, guiding your arms and legs into the suit’s sleeves, adjusting the fit, and sealing it tight around your body. The suit clung to you like a second skin, the material warming slightly as it activated, responding to your body heat.

Next came the helmet, a heavy, reinforced piece with a full visor that provided a wide field of vision. The technicians lowered it carefully onto your head, locking it into place with a series of metallic clicks. The moment the helmet sealed, your world became slightly muffled, the sounds of the facility fading into a low hum as the suit’s internal systems took over. A heads-up display flickered to life on the visor, showing a stream of data—your vitals, oxygen levels and a myriad of other readings you couldn’t yet decipher.

The last piece of your equipment was a utility belt, which the technicians fastened securely around your waist. The belt was lined with pouches and compartments, each designed to hold the tools you’d need for the mission. You noticed a small pouch containing a syringe—likely the medication to knock out Sebastian. It had the same color as the syringe in Mr.Wiltshires office. Another compartment held the USB stick, its purpose still lingering in your mind and clearly important given its inclusion in your gear. There were other items as well—what looked like a flashlight and a single medkit.

As the final adjustments were made, the guide stepped forward, his expression as unreadable as ever. “This suit will keep you alive down there,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “But it’s not invincible. Be smart, and don’t push your luck.”

You nodded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. The weight of the suit was beginning to settle in, both physically and mentally. You were about to be sealed inside a metal capsule and sent into the darkest reaches of the ocean, a place where few had ventured and even fewer had returned from. But there was no turning back now.

The guide led you toward the submarine’s entry hatch, which stood open like a gaping maw, waiting to swallow you whole. The technicians handed you a pair of thick gloves and a small pack containing a few rations and basic batteries for the flashlight—just in case.

With everything in place, you took a deep breath and stepped into the submarine. The interior was cramped, with barely enough room to stand upright. Every surface was lined with panels of blinking lights, screens displaying data, and rows of buttons and switches whose functions you could only guess at. It was a far cry from the spacious, sterile halls of the facility above.

The guide climbed in after you, maneuvering with practiced ease in the tight space. He gestured for you to sit in one of the reinforced seats bolted to the floor. You complied, feeling the seat’s harness click into place around your suit. The guide moved to the controls at the front of the vessel, flipping switches and pressing buttons with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before.

“This is it,” he said without looking back at you. “Once we close the hatch, we’ll begin the descent. The sub is fully automated, so you won’t need to do much. Just keep an eye on your vitals, and stay calm.”

The hatch began to close with a heavy clang, the last sliver of light from the outside world disappearing as the metal door sealed shut. A dull thud echoed through the chamber, followed by a series of mechanical whirs and clicks as the submarine’s systems came online.

You felt a slight shift as the vessel detached from its moorings, the faint sensation of movement signaling the start of your journey. The submarine began its slow, steady descent into the depths, the hum of the engines the only sound breaking the silence.

You glanced at the small viewport beside you, watching as the murky waters of the facility’s dock gave way to the inky blackness of the deep sea. The light from the sub’s exterior lamps cut through the darkness, revealing the occasional flicker of marine life darting past. But as you continued to descend, even those fleeting glimpses faded away, leaving you surrounded by a void so absolute it felt like you were sinking into nothingness.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as you descended deeper and deeper. The pressure increased with every meter, the submarine creaking and groaning in response. You kept your eyes on the HUD inside your helmet, watching the readings carefully, trying to stay calm.

Suddenly, a voice crackled through the comms, pulling you from your thoughts. “We’re reaching the operational depth,” the guide said, his voice sounding distant. “Everything’s looking good. We’ll be in position shortly.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, and took a deep breath to steady yourself. You were about to reach the point of no return, the depth where Urbanshade’s mysteries lay hidden.

As the submarine settled into position, the guide turned toward you, his face illuminated by the dim glow of the controls. “From here on out, you’re on your own,” he said, his tone serious. “Follow your mission, and you’ll be fine. And remember—whatever happens, stay focused. This isn’t just some walk in the park. What you find down here could change everything.”

With that, he pressed a final button, and the submarine’s systems hummed to life in full force. The hatch beside you opened with a loud hiss, revealing a narrow passage leading out into the deep.

It was time. You unbuckled your harness, your gloved hands moving with a new sense of purpose. The small pouch on your belt containing the syringe and USB stick felt heavier than before, a constant reminder of the stakes. You adjusted your gear one last time, ensuring everything was secure.

Then, with one final look back at the guide, you stepped out of the submarine and into the unknown.

The submarine’s departure was swift and final, leaving you standing alone in the small, dimly lit underwater dock. The hatch closed with a deep metallic thud, and the vessel immediately began its descent back into the depths, the sound of the engines fading into the surrounding water until there was nothing but silence. You were left to take in your new surroundings.

The dock itself was smaller and far more utilitarian than the one you had departed from. Heavy cargo boxes were stacked neatly along the walls, each labeled with codes and symbols you couldn’t decipher. Metal shelves held various tools and equipment, their contents slightly askew, as if someone had left in a hurry. A few tables were scattered around, covered with open crates, maps, and other items left behind by whoever had last used this space. Everything had a layer of dust on it, giving the place an eerie, abandoned feel.

As you took a cautious step forward, your boots echoed on the metal floor, breaking the stillness. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater and oil, mingled with a faint metallic tang that made your skin prickle. The lighting was low, casting long shadows that danced across the walls with each flicker of the overhead lamps.

You moved toward one of the tables, scanning its contents. A few scattered documents caught your eye, their pages yellowed and brittle. Most of the text was smudged or faded, but you could make out references to “Navi-Paths” and “Asset Collection,” terms you recognized from your briefing. Whatever had happened here, it was clear that this facility had been operational once—before it was abandoned to the deep.

Suddenly, a crackle of static filled the air, making you jump. After a moment, a voice from Urbanshade HQ cut through the noise, calm and authoritative.

“Welcome to the Hadal Blackside,” the voice began, echoing in the empty dock with an unsettling clarity. “You are now within one of the most classified zones in all of Urbanshade’s operations. Your objective is simple: collect all assets and follow the designated Navi-Path. The resources you gather here are invaluable to our continued efforts, and your success is imperative.”

The voice paused, letting the weight of the words sink in before continuing.

“The Navi-Path has been mapped out for you. Follow it closely. It's the door signs. Straying from the path may result in disorientation, loss of communication, and even death. You are on your own out there, but we expect nothing less than full compliance. Remember: your mission is the priority. All other considerations are secondary.”

The transmission ended abruptly, leaving you alone once again in the oppressive silence of the dock. The weight of their words hung heavy in the air, the enormity of your task settling in. You adjusted the belt strapped around your waist, securing the small pouches that held the few tools you’d been given—some basic equipment, the small syringe for “emergency” use, and the USB stick that would prove vital to your mission.

Steeling yourself, you moved toward the exit, your path uncertain but driven by necessity. The first room beyond the dock was a wide, cavernous space, lit only by a few dimly lights that barely cut through the darkness. The walls were lined with more shelves, some of which had toppled over, spilling their contents onto the floor. Papers, tools, and unidentifiable scraps of metal were strewn everywhere, evidence of some past chaos.

You stepped carefully around the debris, your eyes scanning the room for anything useful. You found a few more documents, some partially legible, others completely ruined by time and moisture. Most were mundane—logs of inventory, maintenance records—but you stuffed a few into your pouch, just in case.

As you moved deeper into the room, your flashlight beam landed on a closed file cabinet in the corner. You approached it cautiously, the handle cold and slightly rusted under your gloved hand. With a bit of effort, you managed to pry it open. Inside, you found a stack of neatly organized files, most of them still in decent condition. You quickly flipped through them, noting the keywords: “Expedition Logs,” “Resource Acquisition,” “Subject Analysis.” These were the assets you were here for. You stuffed as many as you could into your pouch, the weight pressing against your side as you continued your search.

The next room was larger, with a vaulted ceiling that made the space feel even more ominous. Large machines sat dormant along the walls, their purposes unknown but their sheer size intimidating. The sound of dripping water echoed through the chamber, each drop amplified in the silence.

As you moved cautiously through the room, you spotted another item of interest—a small metal case half-hidden under one of the machines. You pulled it out and carefully opened it, revealing a series of USB sticks neatly lined up inside. Each was labeled with codes similar to the ones on the files you’d found. You didn’t know what they contained, but they were clearly important. You took the entire case, securing it in one of your larger pouches.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, sending a jolt of fear through you. You blinked, trying to shake off the unease. The facility was old, after all, and flickering lights were just another sign of its decay—nothing to worry about. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself, brushing off the creeping dread that began to settle in.

But then, the sound hit you—an ear-piercing, bone-chilling scream that reverberated through the walls, freezing you in place. It wasn’t human, not by any stretch of the imagination. The sound clawed at your nerves, each second amplifying the terror gnawing at your gut.

Before you could even process what was happening, a massive black cloud of smoke burst into the room, swirling with unnatural speed and intensity. The sight of it sent your mind into a frenzy. This was no ordinary malfunction. Panic gripped you like a vice, your instincts screaming at you to run, to hide, to do anything to escape whatever horror was hurtling toward you.

Without thinking, you bolted toward the nearest hiding spot—an open locker tucked away in the corner of the room. You flung yourself inside, pulling the door shut just as the cloud surged closer, filling the room with darkness and a suffocating sense of dread. You held your breath, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to stay as still and quiet as possible.

Inside the cramped locker, you could hear the creature—or whatever it was—moving through the room, the sounds it made more akin to a swarm than a single entity. It hissed and crackled, its presence oppressive, as if the very air was being sucked out of the space. You could feel the vibrations of its movements through the metal walls of the locker, each shift causing you to tense up even more.

Time seemed to stretch out, every second an agonizing eternity as you waited, hoping that the creature would pass you by. Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts, none of them comforting. What was that thing? Why was it here? And, most terrifying of all—would it find you?

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to quiet your breathing, hoping against hope that the locker would be enough to shield you from whatever nightmare had been unleashed in this forsaken place.

The giant monster rushed past as quickly as it had appeared, leaving you trembling in the confines of the locker. Your chest heaved, desperate for air, but it felt like no oxygen was reaching your lungs. Panic gripped you tightly, each breath coming out as a shallow gasp. Your thoughts spiraled, the terror of what you’d just witnessed crashing over you in waves.

Your hands shook uncontrollably as you fumbled with the helmet of your diving suit, the need to get it off suddenly overwhelming. The locker felt suffocatingly small, the walls pressing in on you from all sides. You could feel the cold metal against your back, your fingers finally finding the latch on the helmet. With a frantic jerk, you ripped it off your head, letting it fall with a clatter inside the cramped space.

Gasping, you sucked in the stale, metallic-tasting air of the locker, but it wasn’t enough. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, the sound of your own pulse deafening in your ears. It felt like the walls were closing in, squeezing the breath out of your lungs. No matter how much air you took in, it wasn’t enough to calm the storm raging inside you.

Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, your mind replaying the sight of that monstrous cloud over and over again. The sheer horror of it, the way it had filled the room with darkness and dread, it was too much to handle. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force the images out of your head, but they wouldn’t go away. The locker felt like a cage, trapping you with your fear, and your thoughts spiraled further out of control.

Your breaths came faster and faster, each one shallower than the last. You tried to steady yourself, to get a grip, but your body wouldn’t listen. You felt like you were drowning in your own panic, every nerve in your body screaming for escape, but there was nowhere to go. The fear had taken over completely, locking you in a vice grip of terror.

For what felt like an eternity, you sat there, struggling to breathe, your body shaking with the intensity of the panic attack. Eventually, the sheer exhaustion began to slow your frantic breaths, but the fear still lingered, clawing at the edges of your mind. You knew you couldn’t stay in the locker forever, but the thought of stepping back out into the darkness, where that thing might still be lurking, was almost too much to bear.

But you also knew you couldn’t stay in this state, trapped in a locker, paralyzed by fear. You forced yourself to take deeper breaths, to focus on the sound of your breathing, the feel of the cold air filling your lungs.

In the end, you couldn’t stay in the locker any longer. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating you with your own fear. With shaky breaths, you finally gathered the courage to push open the door and step out into the dark, disorienting space. The room was eerily silent, the absence of light making it impossible to see where you were going. You hesitated, trying to get your bearings without crashing into any furniture or walls.

Then it hit you—you had a flashlight. Relief mingled with your lingering panic as you remembered. Quickly, you fumbled for it, plucking it from your belt and flipping it on. The beam cut through the darkness, revealing the room around you. The light danced over scattered documents, overturned furniture, and… a strange, human-shaped hole in the wall.

You blinked, trying to make sense of it. The edges of the hole were jagged, as if something had forced its way out of the wall. Unease prickled at the back of your neck as you stepped closer, the flashlight’s beam trembling in your hand. You leaned in to get a better look, your mind racing with possibilities, none of them good.

Suddenly, a soft, almost imperceptible sound echoed through the hall—a faint shuffling, like something dragging across the floor. You froze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. The sound was close, too close, and it sent a chill down your spine.

You swung the flashlight around, its beam sweeping over the room, desperately searching for the source of the noise. The light caught movement—just a flicker at the edge of the beam, but enough to send your heart racing.

Your breath hitched as you slowly turned toward the direction of the movement. Your flashlight illuminated a figure emerging from the wall itself, its form eerily human but distorted in unsettling ways. The Wall Dweller moved silently, its dark, gaunt shape blending seamlessly with the shadows. It was halfway out of the wall, its empty eyes locked on you with a chilling intensity.

For a moment, you were paralyzed by fear, your body refusing to respond as the Wall Dweller slithered free from the wall. But as the flashlight beam lingered on it, something unexpected happened—the creature froze. Its body stood still against the light, and for a brief second, it seemed almost uncertain.

Then, with a sudden, jerky motion, the Wall Dweller recoiled. It shifted back, retreating toward the open door you came from as if the light had unnerved it. You watched in shock as the creature sprinted back through the hallway, its gaunt figure slipping away into the darkness from which you came. The shuffling sound faded as quickly as it had begun, leaving you alone in the quiet room once more.

You stood there, heart pounding in your chest, flashlight still pointed at the now-empty wall. The encounter had left you rattled, but relief washed over you as you realized the Wall Dweller had fled, seemingly more afraid of you—or perhaps of the light—than you were of it.

Slowly, you lowered the flashlight, trying to steady your breath. The room was silent again, but the tension in the air had lessened. Whatever that thing was, it was gone now.

You took a moment to steady yourself, the flashlight still clutched tightly in your hand. The room was quiet, the Wall Dweller gone, but your nerves were frayed. You couldn’t afford to stay here any longer, not with the darkness pressing in and the uncertainty of what might be lurking nearby. You needed to keep moving.

Cautiously, you stepped out of the room and into the hallway, the beam of your flashlight leading the way. The hall stretched out before you, lined with doors that seemed to go on forever. You chose one at random, the door creaking open as you pushed it with trembling hands. The room beyond was an office, eerily quiet and dimly lit by the emergency lights flickering weakly overhead.

You scanned the room, your eyes falling on several desks cluttered with papers and office supplies. You knew what you were here for—files, documents, anything that might be of value or contain information. Your heart was still racing, but you forced yourself to move forward, sweeping the flashlight over the desks and shelves.

As you approached the nearest desk, you noticed a stack of files haphazardly piled on top. Quickly, you started rifling through them, your eyes scanning the labels and dates. Some of them seemed important, so you grabbed what you could, shoving the files into the small pouch at your waist. The rest of the room yielded more documents, USB sticks, and other bits of data that you added to your growing collection.

The more you found, the more you realized how vital this information might be. But as you continued to search, the lights above you flickered, sending a jolt of fear straight through your chest. You froze, staring at the ceiling as the light stuttered again, threatening to plunge you into darkness.

Panic gripped you. The memory of the Wall Dweller was still fresh in your mind, and the thought of being caught in the dark again was unbearable. Your breath quickened, the room suddenly feeling far too exposed, too open. You needed to get out, and fast.

There was no locker here, nowhere to hide. You glanced around frantically, searching for another exit, another room—anywhere that might offer safety. The lights flickered once more, this time staying off for a fraction too long. It was enough to make your decision.

Without thinking, you bolted from the office, your footsteps echoing loudly in the deserted hallway. You didn't care about the noise, didn't care about anything except getting to a place where you could hide. The hallway seemed endless, but you pushed yourself forward, heart hammering in your chest.

Finally, you spotted another door ahead, slightly ajar. You sprinted towards it, not slowing down until you reached it. Your hand shot out, wrenching the door open as you stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind you.

Panting heavily, you leaned against the door, trying to catch your breath. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of your flashlight, but it felt safer—more enclosed. You aimed the beam around, revealing another small office. This one was more cramped, with just enough space to move around.

Relief washed over you as you noticed a locker in the corner, its metal surface gleaming dully in the light. You wasted no time, crossing the room and throwing open the locker door. It was empty, just big enough for you to fit inside. You clambered in, pulling the door shut behind you as you crouched down, trying to quiet your breathing.

The darkness of the locker felt strangely comforting now, a shield against the unknown. You hugged your knees to your chest, listening intently for any sound outside. But there was nothing—just the pounding of your own heart and the faint hum of the building’s dying lights.

And then a heavy force rushed into the room before smashing itself against the metallic locker, the force pressing a dent into the double doors, making you scream as your space went smaller and smaller. You pushed your shaking legs against the doors with full force, keeping the dent and the monster from squishing you to death but whatever the creature was, wouldn't stop and rammed more against the poor locker that would soon give up.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the relentless force continued to crash against the locker, each impact louder and more violent than the last. The cold metal bent inward with every strike, the sound of creaking steel and the screech of the creature echoing in your ears. The small space grew unbearably tight, the walls closing in as you pushed back with all your might, your legs trembling under the strain. Fear clawed at your throat as you realized the locker wouldn't hold much longer. Desperation surged through you as you searched frantically for any possible escape, knowing that the next impact could be your last.

The relentless assault finally ceased, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. You gasped for breath, your body trembling from the strain and adrenaline. The creature had retreated, its monstrous presence fading into the distance. The metal locker, now warped and twisted, barely provided any protection, but it was over.

Your legs were numb, a dull ache spreading through your entire body. Bruises throbbed on your skin where the locker had pressed into you, and the terror of the encounter left you drained, every ounce of energy spent. As the adrenaline ebbed away, the pain intensified, overwhelming your senses.

With a final, weak breath, your vision blurred, and you slipped into unconsciousness, your body slumped behind the battered double doors.

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace fanfic #roblox pressure #asabovesobelow #pressure #gn!reader #gender neutral #sebastian x gn!reader

143 notes · View notes

gnawingonleonsbicep · 4 months ago

Text

I Don’t Want to Fall in Love (1/2)

pt. 2

Leon Kennedy x gn!reader. Post RE4/R, written with RE4R Leon in mind, however either version works.

Angst. Hurt/no comfort? No use of y/n or [name]. Reader is referred to as “sweetheart”. Reader is a barista. Leon lives in an apartment idk. More tags in the tags. Sorry this is my first time actually posting a full fic.

WC: 2.7k

❝ Right face, wrong time, she's sweet

(But I don't wanna fall in love)

Too late, so deep, better run cause

(I don't wanna fall in love)

Can't sleep, can't eat, can't think straight

(I don't wanna) ❞

Between making sure he was in peak condition after the events of his Spain mission, particularly regarding the brief period he was infected with the plaga, Leon found himself with a surprising amount of free time between his assignments. During the free period, Leon found himself frequenting a quaint café near his apartment. Perhaps it was the coffee that drew him in. Or the soothing environment. Or the cute barista he happens to run into every time he visits. Too bad doesn’t want to fall in love.

Leon didn’t have much luck with relationships. Had a couple girlfriends before Raccoon City, none after. It wasn't like he had much time to get into the dating scene either; between his nonexistent work-life balance and the baggage he carried, he swiftly accepted the fact that a relationship must’ve simply just been out of the cards for him.

He didn’t lament on that fact; some things were just out of his control. No use in fighting it. He accepted that a long time ago. Hell, he didn’t even think he could manage a relationship anymore. Sure, the company would be nice, but he can’t stay in one place for too long. You’d think he’d enjoy the breaks whenever he got them, and you’d be right. As long as they don’t go on for too long. He’s gotten accustomed to the busy schedule, can’t help but get antsy whenever he goes long without an assignment, always feels like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Still, he can’t deny it gets “a little” lonely in his apartment. It’s dreary and desolate; from an outside perspective, one would easily assume it was vacant. Minus the bare minimum furnishings — a bed, a cheap couch he found, and a little TV he got for the occasions he is home — there wasn’t much in his apartment. None of it really got much use, though. More times than not, he’d end up passed out on the couch when he returned from an assignment.

Perhaps you could say his home was a representation of himself: dull and empty. Missing that spark of life. Missing what made it a home. He never put much thought into it, though. His main concern was being in an okay enough condition to complete whatever task he was given. Maybe he’ll do a good enough job that he’ll retire early and go back to a semi-regular life!

The thought was nice, if not based in naïveté. Something he’d think about while he tried to sleep. Maybe one day he’d be able to retire. Settle down and give someone a better life than he had. Wishful thinking and all.

During his time living in the area, especially with the surprising amount of free time he’s had, his routine grew to include a local café near his apartment complex. Perhaps it was the novelty of the quiet, quaint building, of a secondary location to unwind outside of his bleak apartment.

It also helped that there was a particularly cute barista there.. But you didn’t hear that from him.

That was how he met you. It was pure coincidence; your shifts happened to align with the days he’d show up. Some may call it fate; he more accurately calls it regularly visiting an establishment. Whatever attraction he might’ve felt had no play in it. Even if he happened to memorize your shifts. And that you were his favorite.

….

God, he sounded like a creep.

It wasn’t like that, though. He was just vigilant. He’d gotten used to being aware of his surroundings. He couldn’t help it. Besides, he didn’t memorize only your schedule. He knew that Aaron and Eliza worked Mondays and Thursdays, Carol opened on Sundays, and that Mac worked on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Just to name a few.

He’d like to say he planned this. That he knew his feelings of attraction would grow into something more. But he couldn’t lie to himself. Or you. While it started as a simple infatuation, an attraction to how he perceived you, he knew it wasn’t love.

Until you began starting up conversations with him whenever you had the opportunity. It was small talk at first, asking him about his day, exchanging small pleasantries, occasionally making a comment on his attire; surface-level interactions while you took his order. Stuff you did with every customer. You were just being polite; he knew that. He wasn’t going to look into it and convince himself otherwise.

Then the conversations slowly grew longer. But that meant nothing. And it meant nothing when you started spending your breaks with him or when you made his order in advance because you knew when he’d arrive. And the cute notes you left didn’t mean anything. No, they definitely meant nothing. And you certainly meant nothing when you asked to have lunch with him on your day off. Nope. Meant nothing. Not like it was a date, right?

At least that’s what he told himself. Until you offhandedly mentioned that it was the best date you had in a while. But that meant nothing, right? Right?

He knew he was a goner the moment the date lunch had ended.

One date turned into another, and then another, and then another.. You even came over to his shitty charming little apartment (your words, not his.) for a horror-filled movie night (the horror movies were your idea). Leon wasn’t much of a fan of horror after experiencing a horror movie in his own life, though it was a little hard to be on edge after Raccoon City and Spain. Hard beat an actual “zombie apocalypse” and being infected with a parasite that nearly turned him into yet another mindless puppet of Saddler’s.)

If Leon already knew he was a goner by the end of your first date, it was really solidified when you were practically curled up and hiding in his chest for an hour and a half. On one hand, it was a little awkward considering Leon was rather.. touch deprived. It was far more physical interaction than he had been used to for a while. At least, in a sweeter, more intimate manner. On the other, the feeling of you clinging to him like a lifeline whenever the movie got a little too scary for you made him feel a sense of bliss. Like it was a taste of what could’ve been, what he could have. With you. He almost wondered how it would’ve gone if Raccoon had never happened. Then again, he probably would’ve never met you if things had gone differently.

While he silently relished in the feeling, it left him with a pit in his stomach after you left. He had trouble falling asleep that night. It wouldn’t have been too unusual.. If he hadn’t been thinking about you.

His thoughts raced, going over how poorly it could all end if you ever made it official. And how poorly it could end if you didn’t make it official. He was between a rock and a hard place; if he “set things straight” and bluntly said he “wasn’t” interested in a relationship, he wouldn’t be dragging you into whatever the hell he had going on.

However, he’d constantly beat himself up with the “what if”s if he missed this opportunity. An opportunity for something more in his personal life, something that could be what ignites that spark. A rock and a hard place.

He didn’t have much of an appetite, going throughout his day in a daze. He was in an inner conflict. He was sure he could see himself spending his life with you, at least a portion of it. For as long as you’d have him. But was he right for you? Was he really a good match for you? Could he provide you what you needed?

Sure, he was physically attractive, he couldn’t deny that. But could you really love what’s underneath that? Would you still love him if you knew the damaged man he was beneath his awkward charm and handsome features? Would you still love him if you delved deep, if you truly got to know him so intimately? If you broke down his walls and bared his soul to you?

And you were such a sweet, sensitive thing. Would you really be able to handle the time spent apart when he’s off doing who knows what for the government? Would you be able to handle him coming home bloodied and bruised after a particularly rough assignment? He was sure you’d tend to his wounds, cleaning and dressing them with such a tender hand, as if he was nothing more than a delicate flower. But could you really handle it? Could he handle the guilt that’d eat at him? Could he handle dragging someone so soft into his muddled world? Defiling your simple, picturesque life with his life of disarray?

Was it selfish of him to yearn for that? To yearn for someone to care for his worn-down body, to take him into their arms and rebuild him, over and over again, as long as it takes? For a sense of normality?

Leon was ashamed to admit that he started avoiding you. It made him feel weak, juvenile. The Leon S. Kennedy: survivor of the Raccoon City incident, the man that rescued the president’s daughter with rather minimal help, avoiding a civilian working as a barista at the local café, because of what, a schoolboy crush? Because he couldn’t handle his own feelings? God, he must’ve sounded pathetic.

You must’ve noticed something was off after he hadn’t shown up for the umpteenth time in a row. Maybe he was sick? What if he got hurt? You couldn’t help but worry; you did like him after all. You liked him a lot. It felt safe to say that you might even love him. Sure, you didn’t know every little detail of his life, but you didn’t need to immediately. That was something you could learn eventually, on his own time.

That was what led you to show up at his apartment with a cute little care package. Always such a sweetheart. After being drawn out of his thoughts. It was odd; he wasn’t expecting any company. It wasn’t like he really got any. Maybe it was Claire stopping by to drop something off? She was sweet like that. Sure, they weren’t able to keep in contact as much as he’d like, but they tried to make some time whenever they got the chance. Still, usually she’d give him a heads-up before she stopped by.

It barely crossed his mind that you’d be at his front door. He could nearly feel his heart ache at the sight of you, the way you nervously shifted from side to side, biting the inside of your cheek.

Oh, and the care package, filled with small, homemade goodies and topped off with a cream-colored stuffed bear, a little blue ribbon around its neck. It was so painfully you. After he got over his momentary shock, he quickly ushered you in with a quick “Come in, come in,” and a “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Glancing around his apartment, he mentally beat himself up for the mess. Well, as messy as his empty apartment could get.

“Sorry, I wasn’t.. expecting anyone,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair as he glanced off to the side. It was silent for a moment, the both of you standing there; you staring at him, him avoiding your gaze. Maybe that was a way to describe your dynamic. You, looking at him with such adoration, with such love. Piercing through him in a way that was equally comforting and terrifying while he hid away from it, avoiding it as though it were the plague. It made him feel vulnerable, like you could see through him, see through the tears in his carefully crafted veil. He couldn’t tell if he loved it or hated it.

“Do you—”

“I was just—”

Silence.

It was clear you had something you wanted to say, though you refrained. Whether it was so you could simply formulate your thoughts or to avoid cutting him off again was up for debate. Perhaps it was both; perhaps it was neither.

After a few short moments, though they seemed to drag on for far longer than they actually did, you finally broke that silence between the both of you.

“I was just..” you paused for a moment, glancing down at the stuffed bear. “..I was worried when you didn’t show up. Thought you might’ve been sick or something,” glancing back up at him, a small smile graced your features, a hint of embarrassment tainting the expression, “But now that I’m here, I feel kind of silly.. Since, y’know, you seem fine and all.”

You were worried about him?

A pang of guilt grew within him. If he had made you worry enough to come pay him a visit when he was just behaving childishly, how would you react when he was out on a mission? Or when he returns bruised and beaten, wounds that are surely bound to become another scar littering his body?

It only further solidified his opinion. He couldn’t drag you into his life; he couldn’t put you through that. He needed to end things with you, to put a stop to whatever was growing between the both of you. Sure, he’d regret it. Why wouldn’t he regret it? But he couldn’t be selfish. You deserved better. You deserve someone that could be there for you, someone who you wouldn’t have to share with the government for as long as your relationship lasts. He couldn’t hold you back. Besides, it’s not like it’d be the first thing he regrets.

“Yeah..” he muttered, furrowing his brow as a sigh left him. “Listen.. I like you, I really do, but..” he paused, internally wincing at the way your face dropped, guilt piercing through him. “..I don’t think this is going to work out. I’m sorry.”

“..what.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look up at you. He was sure he’d crumble the moment you did. He felt like such an asshole, but this was for the better, right?

Right?

“My job– it’s.. Very demanding, and,” oh, it was more than just demanding. But he couldn’t tell you what he did. It’d only make you worry more. “..the hours are long, and I wouldn’t.. be there.. that much,” he knew he was being vague, but how could he casually explain what he did for work? That he’d be gone for days, weeks, hell, maybe even years? All because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time?

He didn’t need to drag you into his shit. He didn’t need to put your safety at risk due to his own selfish desires.

“But– but we could work through that. It won’t be a problem, I promise.” Oh, you were just too sweet. Too kind for your own good. He was over here breaking your poor little heart, and you were still willing to compromise with him.

“Sweetheart,” his voice was so soft, so gentle. Even when he was being the cruelest he’s ever been to you, he still spoke to you with such care.

“Please, Leon. Please. We could make it work. I know we could, if you gave us a chance,” Oh, there you go, breaking his heart. And he thought he was the cruel one. He was, and yet, he couldn’t ignore the way his eyes stung or the way his throat closed up.

“Sweetheart,” he paused, taking in a sharp breath; even as his voice wavered ever so slightly, he remained composed. He made his bed, and he was going to lie in it. It was his choice; he was the one breaking your heart, so what right did he have to cry in this very moment?”

“Please, Leon..”

“I think it would be best if you left.”

He knew he was going to regret that choice. He already had many regrets in life; what more was another?

After leaning against the now-closed door for a moment after your departure, he reluctantly pulled himself from it, only to bump into something on the floor.

That was odd. While he had some clutter about, he didn’t have anything out of line in the entrance..

Oh.

It was the stuffed bear. The one you brought him. It must’ve fallen while you were leaving.

Bending down to grab it, he held it in his hands for a moment, simply observing it. A memento for the occasion, perhaps. A physical reminder of the “what if”s he’d no doubt ruminate on.

God, he was going to regret this.

62 notes · View notes

d-dantes · 5 months ago

Text

இ•◦ ─── • 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬

Pairing: Topaz x Reader x Aventurine

Warnings: m/f/f threesome, dubious consent (just in case), fingering, oral, teasing, vaginal penetration, creampie, lingerie, praise (use of good girl and sweetheart), a hint of overstim and a smidge of aftercare, power imbalance if you squint.

Wordcount: 3.8k

You’ve heard of workplace hazing, plenty of the lower ranked IPC employees talked about hostile work environments in hushed tones and whispered voices but you’ve never dealt with anything like that.

Especially not from any of the Stonehearts, regardless of all the rumors you’ve heard whispered in break rooms and behind closed doors, specifically Topaz and Aventurine. Ms. Jade was also very welcoming, if not a little sultry but you think she’s always like that. Nevertheless the two aforementioned higher ups were your utmost favorites.

Topaz, aside from Jade of course, was the first member of the ten Stonehearts that you first met, assigned to her to shadow and study for the first few days before transitioning to your respective branch to oversee separate operations. She was still your boss, ranking wise, but she quickly made you feel like you weren’t alone; that you’d made a friend to count on.

Flashing you dazzling smiles and communicating with you regularly in ways you’re sure were a little less than professional but it puts you at ease regardless. The atmosphere within the IPC always felt so strict and suffocating but Topaz always showed you that you could ‘work and play’ respectively.

Helping you settle in comfortably by treating you to lunch and taking you on ‘excursions’ you’re almost positive weren’t work sanctioned but you had little desire to complain. She was smart, especially when utilizing assets at her disposal like taking you on a tour of her recent successful debt collection of a frozen planet called Jarilo-IV; or even treating you to multiple exotic cuisines and unique crafts from the historic Arum Alley on the Xianzhou Loufu.

Topaz loved the way you lit up, commended often that it was nice to see you relaxed in your new position. That the IPC really wasn’t as bad as everyone made it out to be and you were inclined to agree the more time you spent with her. You consider her a friend before long and you assume the feeling is mutual with how liberally she touches you, how closely she lingers in your presence and how often she seeks out your company.

And where Topaz showed you the ropes (and even gave you her personal number to reach her, should you ‘need help’), Aventurines treated you to the more extravagant parts of business deals. Showing you how he runs his section of the strategic department, though mostly working with him seemed just as relaxed as it was with Topaz if not more so.

Aventurine was incredibly generous and considerate, it makes you wonder why most people you know avoid interacting with him all together. He’d gifted you plenty of things within your first few weeks of employment. He’d taken you shopping at highend centers, introducing you to intergalactically renowned tailors because, and you quote, “The IPC has a knack for striking deals but lacks a fashionable taste, it’d be an affront to everyone if we let you walk around in their issued uniforms.”

You spent hours being measured and having materials and designs swatched and matched to make sure your outfit reflected the best version of yourself. Aventurine even paid for multiple outfits to which you turned to him with a furrowed brow at the prospect. Stepping from the podium more than once only for him to tut at you as the seamstress assistants usher you back to your rightful place, ‘it’s on me’ purred at you reassuringly several times with a relaxed smile as he twirled a gold coin between deft digits.

You really couldn’t understand why anyone could dislike either of the pair, frowning at and arguing with subordinates and superiors alike that had anything even remotely negative to say about them. Refuting their grievances and baseless insults with staunch defiance that Topaz coincidentally happened to witness on one of her rare slow workdays.

You’re a sweet little thing, that was obvious enough to everyone you interacted with but you were also fiercely protective as well, not overly aggressive or combative but you certainly weren’t going to take mistreatment of any kind.

Be it for yourself or those that were fortunate enough to know you. It makes Topaz snort to herself, scoffing at the thought of Aventurines luck somehow rubbing off on her as well.

She intervenes before the disagreement could escalate to raised voices and devolve into a petty squabble of little consequence to the Stonehearts, creating a hush between the handful of employees. Approaching the gathering from your rear and she thinks the flash of confusion painting your pretty features is precious when you pivot to see what’s quashed the conversation so quickly. Your shoulders relax to a casual sag as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you greet her airly where the rest stand at attention to their superior.

“Ms. Topaz!” A chorus of varying tones but she focuses on yours solely, petite palm and delicate digits of one hand resting at the center of your upper back between your shoulder blades. Another informal contact with her that was always welcome with you before she all but grimaces at the semi-circle of lower-ranked officials.

“What seems to be the issue guys?” Playful lilt ever present but there's an intentional edge to her tone that tells the group her question was rhetorical. The gaggle stands at attention before Topaz simply nods at them all with a stern look they know well is a dismissal before they risk any formal reprimand or worse.

Rolling her eyes before plastering on her ever present smile at you as she guides you back from where she’d come. Soft pads of her fingers ghosting down your spine and it threatens to make you shiver beneath her touch, turning to your superior just as her hand rests at the small of your back, just above the swell of your ass.

Your lips part to speak but whatever you wanted to ask her dies on your tongue the moment you meet her crystalline gaze, her expression is comforting, misleadingly innocent. She’s cute, distractingly so, disarming in a way you assume certainly helps her with difficult negotiations.

“Did you hear any of that?” You look disgruntled, brow furrowed and a scowl threatens to marr your features as Topaz shrugs her shoulders and guides you with ease.

“Nothing I hadn’t heard before,” exhaled on a breathless chuckle as she pulls a door open for you.

Topaz takes you down familiar hallways until you’re traispsing down the lodging quarters for business hours. At first you think she’s just walking you to your room but as your eyes scan over the room numbers, none of them are recognizable. Quizzical look contorting your pretty features, Topaz finding it cute, the same as every other expression you make, when she glances at you from the corner of her eye. Subtly hastening her step to take the lead and she scans her badge for her own room, pulling you inside her quarters before you’re given the chance to question her.

The door sliding shut behind you as she traverses further into the spacious room as you take in your surroundings. Glancing about in awe of the extravagance, having truly believed the benefits to being a high ranking IPC employee couldn’t surprise you further.

Until your gaze finds topaz again, breath stalking in your throat as you watch her casually undress. Cheekily shimmying from her clothes with her back to you, crimson red thong a stark contrast to the pale glow of her skin in the lowlight as she steps from her shorts. She spins on her heel with her hands clasped behind her back as she flops onto the edge of the mattress, kicking away the material completely as she crosses one leg over the other.

“Come here,” cooed alluringly though she’s only met with your hesitation, unsure of if it's just standard reluctance or flusterment as you fiddle with your cuticles, although she doesn’t think it’s rejection in the slightest.

She’s seen your lingering, longing glances on her in passing, just like how you watch her now though there is a potent and overt desire in your gaze as your eyes rake up Topaz’s body.

She adores it, enjoys watching you and how you react to her even now, leaning back on her palms and stretching her body to give you more to look at. Drawing in slow breaths that expand her chest with a precious purse to her full lips and a lidded gaze.

Topaz cracks a smile when you stay rooted where you stand, wiggling her finger in a ‘come hither’ motion before giggling all together and opting to reach for you instead. Her fingertips hooking on your own before she leans towards you, taking your hand with a firmer grasp as she pulls you closer.

“You’re cute,” she purrs, playful lilt somehow overly sultry to you in this moment but you think that may just be your own nerves with the shift in your relationship, whatever that may be now. Topaz uncrosses her legs and turns you when you’re standing just at her knees before pulling you into her lap, resting you atop her pillowy thighs before she parts them and your own alike.

She hooks her chin on your shoulder, humming in satisfaction as one hand snakes around to cradle your jaw,“I’ve got two things for you, a reward and a surprise.”

“A reward?” You gasp breathlessly as you relax in her lap, choosing to focus on one thing before another, for your own sanity's sake. Swallowing thickly as you draw a steadying breath, “for what?”

You’re so cute Topaz thinks she could just eat you up, fully understanding now why Ms. Jade does and acts the way she does. Her thumb stretches to ghost over the plump flesh of your bottom lip, Topaz’s lashes fluttering as she presses the pad at the seam of your lips to force a gentle kiss. Her free hand rubs at your tricep for a moment before she sighs, dragging her palm down the expanse of your arm, over your abdomen before dipped between your thighs to cup your mound, “for being such a good girl, silly.”

A pleasant shudder wracks your form, your own thighs twitching slightly as you reflexively spread your thighs further. Topaz presses her lips to your shoulder, smiling against your flesh as she dips beneath your skirt and teases over the delicate lace that covers your steadily soaking slit.

“You work so hard,” Topaz hums as you relax into her, shoulders sagging while you slouch lower so her delicate fingers can stroke along your clothed cunt, periodically swirling over your clit, “it was about time we show you just how much we appreciate your efforts.”

Your heart thuds against your ribcage with trepidation coursing in your veins with every beat but you’re more than willing to become puddy in her capable hands. You’re certain this violates something in your several mile long contract, that there would be some sort of ramifications but you really can’t bring yourself to care as soon as Topaz’s fingers slip beneath your panties.

Deft digits glide through your folds, teasing around your entrance that clenches around nothing in anticipation with each teasing dip from your superior. Slick clicking mingling in the silence of her room alongside your intermittent sighs while the woman beneath you brushes her lips in chaste affections along the slope of your throat. Groping at your chest as she does, palming one of your breasts and kneading the fat of it before she pinches and rolls a pert nipple between her index and thumb; enjoying how you pant for her and your body subtly asks for more by arching into her hands over just a little teasing.

“We?” you finally question amidst your haze despite how Topaz works to hold your undivided attention. Doing such a stellar job of it that you don’t register the sound of the door opening or the light from the hallway bleeding through for a fraction of a moment as another body slips into the space.

“How did I know that you’d start without me Topaz?” Aventurine teases as he carefully removes his designer gloves and slips off his overcoat to drape over an armchair adjacent to the mattress where you sit as he drinks in the sight of you already enjoying yourself. It looks like Topaz was only toying with your body, working you up with little intention to get you anywhere close before Aventurine arrived, “worried I’ll out-perform you like I always do?”

‘Oh Aven, you’re just in time. I was just teaching the newbie what it means to relax and the reward she’s earned because of it,” cooed against the shell of your ear before Topaz nips at the cartilage but all you can really hear is the roar of your own blood and the slick clit of your cunt the more Topaz piddles lazily with you. His dual-toned hues aglow in the lowlight or at least they appear that way, hungry as he’s standing before you.

Bending at the waist to take your chin in his hold the same way Topaz had earlier, tipping it gently upwards to meet his vibrant and captivating hues, “poor you, stuck with Topaz for so long. She likes to take her time with her projects, terribly inefficient but I’m here now to show you how it’s done.”

“As if you don’t do the same,” giggled as her free hand hooks into the cup of your top that’s always displayed a modest amount of your cleavage, pulling it down until your pillowy tits spill free from their confines. Cerulean hues flitting up to meet the other Stoneheart’s fleeting gaze as she tugs at your neglected nipple, making your lashes flutter. You swallow down a mewl as you swallow thickly but only grow wetter beneath her fingertips, shying all over again now that your other favorite joins the fold, “but taking your time is hardly a bad thing, especially with the things you enjoy.”

Aven chuckles airily, swatting away Topaz’s fingers before hooking his own into the band of your skirt to tug it down your thighs along with your panties. Sinking to his knees as he handles the fabric delicately, pressing his lips to your inner thigh just above your own knee.

“Ah you're even wearing the lingerie set I picked out for you, I knew you’d love them,” his tone somewhat mocking but you can hardly register that with the warm breath fanning overheated skin. Tensing slightly when his fingers grip your knees, pushing them further apart to make room for his body, tutting at you when he feels your thighs flex and threaten to close around his head.

“Wait!” Your voice surprises even yourself, only the man between your legs stalls, Topaz still littering chaste brushes of her lips along your shoulders as her fingers keep you spread for Aventurine.

A beat passes between you, a suspended silence before Aventurine chuckles and leans his cheek against your inner thigh, “were you going to follow that up with anything sweetheart or are you just stalling?”

The nervousness is cute, he wouldn’t be doing this at all if he didn’t think you’d wanted this. Wouldn’t have even humored Topaz when /she/ brought it up to him a few weeks prior after an impromptu meeting with the other Stonehearts over their project divisions.

He’d seen the way you looked at him, noticed how you leered the times he’d traipsed through the springs in only the skimpy little towel that just barely covered his modesty. Aventurine liked to gamble, sure, that was without question.

But he gambled most and went big when he was certain of a positive outcome.

“Wh..” stammering? Unlike you, but you know it's because of the pair you’re sandwiched between now. You pause, draw in a steadying breath before squirming slightly at the contrasting coolness of Aventurine’s breath over your heated slit when he huffs impatiently. Writhing as you do even though he still bears his usual cat smile, “what do you mean that you picked out? I thought it was a little gag gift?”

They both noticeably pause, stone still before Aventurine chuckles airily, the sound of it warming your skin as you squirm against Topaz only for her to hold you more firmly.

“As if anyone could afford something this extravagant as a gag,” he purrs haughtily after his laughter subsides into scattered chuckles. He kneads at your thigh as he leans closer, pressing a chaste kiss to your mound just about the pearl at the apex of your slit with a cheeky grin, “just like everything else I’ve bought you, it’s because I thought you’d look nice in it.”

Uttered casually as he dips lower, stealing the breath from your lungs as he gives a languid stripe over the length of your folds. Humming in satisfaction at both the taste of your slick and the way you respond to him easily. Tension bleeding from your body as he buries into your folds, nose brushing against your clit as he feasts on you greedily for such a frivolous man.

“Someone’s eager,” Topaz teases as she cups the column of your throat, fitting it perfectly in the web of her palm. Gently stroking her index finger along your thrumming pulse as her lashes flutter shut, smile finding her pretty features at the vibration of your moans that are not yet loud enough to indulge in.

Gasping herself when two lithe but skilled digits plunge into her own cunt “very eager,” purring throatily as her own head tips backwards to enjoy the rare treatment.

“Speak for yourself,” muttered between the rapid flicks of his tongue over your puffy bundle of nerves, “this wet from just fondling? I bet you’ll be the first to cum too, selfish girl, this isn’t about you.”

He’s relentless in his assault though, giving Topaz no room for rebuttal and you little reprieve before his lips wrap around your clit and suckles gently. Curling his fingers in Topaz’s cunt and stroking velvety walls until you're both arching and gasping, left at his mercy until tears gather at the corners of your eyes. The woman behind you moaning unabashedly in your ear warms your blood and even in the throes of her own pleasure she still works in tandem with the man between your thighs to overwhelm you.

Topaz’s middle and ring finger replace Aventurine’s tongue over your abused clit, rolling over the sensitive nub while his tongue prods at your entrance until your hips twitch forward at the onslaught. Your eyes roll and you can’t help how your hips buck helplessly into his face as the coil in your lower belly winds tightly and begs to break. Muttering a string of hushed curses before long, broken pleads for relief littered between it along with breathy babbling of both of your superiors name while you grip at anything to ground yourself.

The fat of Topaz’s thigh, your own breast not firmly and gently held in her delicate grasp, the steadily soaking comforter beneath you before finally settling on the luscious blond locks atop Aventurine’s head. Pulling a throat groan from him at a particularly rough tug that you try and mutter a halfhearted apology for just as you’re brought to euphoria. Galaxies more brilliant than the ones you’ve traveled for work erupting behind your eyelids as you arch away from Topaz, hips stuttering into his face as Aventurine laps at you through it.

You think you can hear the woman behind you reach rapture as well but her sweet moans sound distant and far away as well, too blissed out to really register a thing around you.

Missing the sound of Aventurine’s voice and whatever salacious sentence he utters as his belt buckle tinkles after its undone. Almost hastily undoing the clasp and zipper of his designer slacks as he pushes them down to mid thigh.

He was a giving man but he also loved to indulge in his own spoils. Sinking his rigid length into your still spasming cunt and the sensation only prolongs your climax; that, or you’d cum again from insertion alone, you can’t be sure but there’s little time to care.

Topaz reaches between your bodies then, purring praises in your ear and taunting Aventurine with words that sound garbled and hazy as your head lolls back against her shoulder. You can feel her hand wrap around your throat again, the feel of her lips at the hinge of your jaw before she nips at your earlobe while Aventurine ruts into you with precision.

The tip of his cock nudging perfectly into that spongy spot within you that keeps you in a perpetual moan. The roll of his hips growing sloppy the closer Aventurine nears his own release, lips finding yours to swallow the rewarding reactions as he echoes them back to you. One of his hands grips firmly at your waist while the other holds fast to your hip, grinding your clit along his pelvis as he gives you shallow ruts.

The friction and the feel of being filled full while Topaz adds to the pleasure sends you over the edge again, walls spasming around his cock seals Aventurine’s own demise. The blond sputters and gasps on your name, choking on a groan as he spills his seed into you as his hips stutter from the stimulation.

Thrusting into you lazily until both of you twitch from the motion, pulling his softening length from your warm a moment later. Some of his spend threatens to leak from you, to make an even bigger mess between your thighs before much thinner digits delve back into your sensitive hole. Topaz plunges her fingers into you leisurely, shushing you when you whine from the stimulation as Aventurine chuckles above you.

Slouching slightly as his lips brush over your crown while he pulls his designer boxers up to make himself halfway decent. Pad of his index finger tapping gently on the underside of your chin to tilt your gaze upwards, hazy and unfocused as it is, as he cradles your jaw.

“Consider that as a commemorative gift, darling,” winking at you cheekily with a sultry tinge to his tone, moreso than usual, before Topaz swats at him with her free hand.

“Yeah, yeah, Aven, just get a warm wash-rag to clean her up or I’ll let Numby use your wingtips as chew toys.”

He’s already crossing the room before Topaz finishes her less than idle threat, waving her off as he steps into the ensuite bathroom to run a bath for you in the extravagant tub. Sure to leave you feeling in the lap of luxury after treating you to the finer things in life.

#vixen writes #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #topaz x reader #topaz x you #aventurine x y/n

69 notes · View notes

sayokoni · 6 months ago

Text

The weight of hatred

Summary: The reader is assigned as Toji Zenin’s maid in the hostile Zenin estate. Despite his indifference and the clan’s hate for him, she continues to serve him, gradually softening the distance between them.

Warnings: Abuse (towards Toji </3), Neglect, hostile environment, Master and servant relationship, some insult, a little cursing ( please let me know if I forget smt:p )

Word count: 2,9k

“Go away.”

“Piece of shit.”

“You were a mistake.”

“Just die already.”

These were the words Toji had heard every day, without fail, from members of his own clan. They didn’t even bother to hide their hatred for him. It didn’t matter if he was minding his own business, if he was sleeping, or even if he was on the verge of death—those hateful looks and venomous words never disappeared. It was as if they had made it their mission to make him feel like he didn’t belong here, like he was a burden that needed to be removed.

Even when he was silent and still, lost in his own thoughts or resting in solitude, he could feel their eyes on him, full of disgust. It was a constant, oppressive weight, one that had been with him since the moment he was born into this cruel world.

At first, it stung, like an open wound that wouldn’t heal. But over the years, he had learned to accept it. There was no point in fighting it. He couldn’t change their minds, and he couldn’t change the way they treated him. So he did the only thing he could—he grew numb. He shut off his emotions, buried them deep, and let the bitterness and hatred wash over him like a storm he couldn’t escape.

It was never going to stop. Toji had long since accepted that. The hatred would stay with him until the day he died, and maybe even beyond that. So he learned to live with it, because it was the only thing he could do.

“Hey, scum, get up. There’s a family meeting, and they want everyone there” came the sharp, voice of one of the clan members.

Toji glanced up for a moment but said nothing. What he wanted to say—what burned at the back of his throat—was a simple “Fuck off.” But he didn’t. He hadn’t said things like that in years.

What was the point? Fighting back wouldn’t help. If anything, it would only make things worse for him. It always did. Besides, how much worse could it get? They already treated him like garbage, like a parasite they couldn’t quite get rid of.

He’d endured it all before. The insults, the starvation, the endless punishments—they had tried to break him in every way they could think of. And maybe they had succeeded. Toji couldn’t remember the last time he felt something other than anger or emptiness. Nothing they did now could hurt him in the same way again.

So he didn’t fight back, didn’t argue, didn’t let them see even a flicker of defiance. Instead, he simply stood up, his movements slow and steady ,as if the weight of his existence was too much to bear.

There was no purpose in resisting.

So he would simply continue existing, waiting for death to eventually claim him.

“The Zenin clan has seen remarkable growth over the past years,” one of the elders announced proudly during the meeting. His voice carried an air of smugness that got on Toji’s nerves. “Our clan is wealthy, and we can count many young members who show great promise as future fighters. To honor our success, we shall hold a grand festival. We will celebrate with lots of food, entertainment, and, of course, buy us more maids, concubines, and whatever else our hearts desire.”

Toji sat in the corner of the room, arms crossed, listening to their self-congratulatory speeches with growing disgust. They dragged him here for this? To pat themselves on the back and flaunt their arrogance in front of one another? His jaw tightened as he clenched his fists under the table.

So full of themselves. So unbearably self-satisfied. It made him sick to his stomach.

He barely kept himself from walking out of the room, the bitterness rising in his chest. But leaving would only draw attention to himself, and thats the last thing he wanted. Instead he sat there, angry and annoyed, just waiting for it to end.

A total of 150 maids and concubines had been brought into the Zenin clan, with about two-thirds serving as maids and the rest as concubines. You were one of the ordinary maids, without any special abilities or talents. You could cook, clean, sew, and perform all the duties expected of a maid.

When you were first informed that you would be sold to the Zenin clan, you weren’t exactly thrilled. Everyone knew of their reputation—stories of their cruelty spread like wildfire. Rumors spoke of the clan’s heartless nature, where torture and punishment were part of their daily routine. It was said they wouldn’t even spare their own blood if someone dared to step out of line.

These rumors made your stomach turn, but there was no escaping your fate. You were just a maid, with no power or influence to change what was to come.

You were led through the grand gates of the Zenin estate, your heart heavy with each step. The towering walls, the grand buildings, the shiny floors—they all seemed to shine with wealth and power, but you knew the truth. Everything here was built on blood, pain, and suffering. The estate, with its beautiful designs and expensive materials, was a place that felt like it had been soaked in tragedy. Each corner seemed to hold a dark history, a reminder of the cruelty that ran deep within the Zenin clan. The luxury surrounding you felt oppressive, like it was closing in on you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that all this wealth had come at the cost of many lives, and you were now a part of it, trapped in a world that didn’t care about you or anyone else. The beauty around you seemed fake, as though it was trying to cover up the darkness beneath.

You had been told your duties would be simple—serve your assigned master, follow orders, and keep your head down. Do what you were told, and perhaps you’d avoid the wrath of the clan. At first, you were relieved. A life of servitude seemed like the easiest path in such a cruel world. But then they told you who you’d be serving.

Toji Zenin.

The name sent a chill down your spine, even though you had never met him. You had heard whispers from the other maids, their voices full of fear and disgust. “The clan’s black sheep,” they called him. “A man despised even by his own blood.” They said he was dangerous, violent, a man who had no loyalty or care for anyone around him. Rumors painted him as a monster—cruel, silent, and detached, a living weapon with a heart as cold as stone.

But when you first saw him, fear didn’t take hold of you like you expected. Instead, there was something else, something you couldn’t quite understand. His presence was overwhelming, impossible to ignore. His tall, broad figure stood like a constant reminder of his strength, yet there was a certain defiance in the way he carried himself. Despite that, it wasn’t his size or strength that caught your attention. It was his eyes. They held something you hadn’t expected to see—something that surprised you. They were filled with exhaustion, a deep bitterness, and an overwhelming weariness. It was as if his eyes told a story, one of a man who had suffered countless wounds, both physical and emotional, and who had been broken only to be forced to rebuild himself again. The world had shaped him into something harsh, and it showed in the way he looked at everything around him, as though he was tired of it all.

“Hey, scum. This is your personal maid,” a clan member said, his voice dripping with disdain. “You only get one because you’re not worth more.”

Toji barely spared you a glance, his eyes sweeping over you without any hint of interest. His gaze was flat, almost as if he was looking right through you. He didn’t seem to care at all about the fact that you were now his servant.

“Be grateful you even get this,” the clan member sneered, his words sharp as he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in front of Toji’s chambers.

You didn’t know what to say. The air between you felt thick with discomfort, and you stood there for a moment, unsure of how to react. Before you could find your voice, Toji turned back to you, his expression distant.

“Do whatever you want,” he said in a low, uncaring tone. “I don’t have a use or need for a maid.” He gave you one last glance, a look that held no emotion, then turned and walked into his chambers without another word. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you standing there, frozen, as his words echoed in your mind.

You felt the weight of his indifference settle in your chest. He wasn’t cruel—no, that would have been easier to bear. He simply didn’t care. You were nothing to him, a tool he had no use for, and that truth stung deeper than any insult could have.

THE NEXT DAY

You were one of the first to wake up this morning, ready to serve your assigned master, despite the fact that Toji had made it very clear that he didn’t need you, that you were nothing more than another burden in his life. But still, you did your duty without complaint.

The moment, as you walked into the kitchen to collect his meal, something felt off. When you approached the counter, your heart sank. The tray set aside for Toji was a mess. The food was burned, charred to the point where it almost looked inedible. The smell was Insufferable, a burnt odor that made your stomach turn. The sight of it sent a wave of confusion through you, but then, reality set in.

Toji wasn’t liked by anyone here—he was a black sheep, treated with hate by his own people. They loathed him, and it was clear they would never give him anything of quality. He was nothing more than an inconvenience to them. The meal you were expected to bring him wasn’t food; it was a punishment. A way for them to make him feel more isolated. You felt a wave of sympathy for him, but it was quickly replaced by the cold reminder that you were just a maid. This was your job.

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the tray. Should you bring him this burnt, inedible mess? It wasn’t right, but you had no choice. It was your responsibility to deliver it. So, with a deep breath, you forced yourself to pick up the tray, the weight of it heavier than you expected, though it wasn’t from the food itself.

You walked down the long hallway. When you reached Toji’s chambers, you knocked softly on the door, but there was no response. You waited a moment, thinking he might overheard it but still there was no sound coming from the other side of the room.

You knocked again, this time with a little more force, but still no answer. Your nerves were on edge now. You could leave the tray and go, but that felt like an insult. No, you had to face him, had to do your duty.

You took a deep breath and gathered all the courage you could muster. “Master Toji?” you said, your voice wavering slightly despite your best efforts. “I’ve come to bring you your breakfast..I’m coming in now.”

With those words, you pushed the door open, stepping into the room. The silence in the air was oppressive, thick with an unspoken tension. The room was dark, the only light coming from a crack in the curtains. Toji was seated by the window, his back to you. His posture was rigid, like he was trying to escape from everything around him, even the world outside.

You moved towards a small table, carefully setting the tray down. The food was a mess—an insult, really—but you said nothing. You didn’t want to draw attention to it. But as you turned to leave, you felt his gaze on you. It wasn’t warm, not in the least, but it wasn’t dismissive either. For a split second, you wondered if he would say something—anything—but instead, he just sighed, his voice low and weary.

“You can go now” he said, his tone cold, no emotions in it. nothing.

You nodded, not daring to say another word, and turned to leave. The door closing softly behind you.

By lunchtime, your heart felt heavier than ever in your life. When you went to collect Toji’s meal, you saw the same miserable excuse for food sitting on the tray. Burned, poorly prepared, and clearly made with nothing but contempt. It wasn’t just negligence—it was deliberate. They hated him so much that they wouldn’t even let him have a proper meal.

You carried the lunch tray to his chambers, knowing full well what you’d find. And sure enough, when you entered his room, the untouched breakfast tray was still sitting where you’d left it. The food was cold, and entirely inedible. Toji hadn’t even bothered to glance at it. He remained by the window as always, quiet and detached, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

You placed the new tray beside the old one, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration well up inside you. How could anyone survive like this? How long had he endured being treated like this? The indignity of it all was suffocating, and yet Toji didn’t say a word. He didn’t even look at you, as if this treatment was something he’d long since accepted.

As dinnertime arrived, you couldn’t take it anymore. When you went to the kitchens to fetch his evening meal, the sight of yet another tray of disgusting food—burnt beyond recognition, the smell alone turning your stomach—was the last straw. You stood there for a moment, staring at it, your hands trembling with anger. Enough was enough.

Making sure no one was watching, you grabbed the tray and hurried to a quiet corner of the estate where no one would see you. There, you dumped the entire tray into a bin, the sound of the wasted food falling away feeling oddly liberating. You straightened up, your heart pounding. What if someone found out? What if they saw you? But you shook the thoughts away. You couldn’t let him be treated like this anymore.

You made your way to the storage room, slipping inside as quietly as you could. The shelves were lined with ingredients—fresh produce, spices, meats, and grains—all untouched and far too luxurious to be wasted on someone they despised. You hesitated for only a moment before gathering what you needed. You couldn’t do much, but you could at least give him a meal that was edible, something that didn’t reek like death .

Back in the kitchen, you worked quickly and silently, your hands moving with purpose. You prepared a simple but hearty meal, seasoning it with care and making sure everything was cooked perfectly. The smell of the food was comforting, filling the small space with warmth. For the first time since arriving at the Zenin estate, you felt like you were doing something right.

Once the meal was finished, you carefully placed it on a tray and covered it, sneaking away from the kitchen with the same caution as before. Your heart raced as you made your way to Toji’s chambers, every shadow and sound making you jump. If anyone caught you, there would be hell to pay. But you didn’t care. Not anymore.

When you reached his room, you knocked softly, not expecting an answer. As usual, there was only silence. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Toji was sitting by the window, as always, but this time, he glanced over his shoulder at you, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly when he saw the tray in your hands. You set it down on the table without a word, your hands shaking slightly. For a moment, you thought about explaining yourself, about telling him what you’d done, but the words caught in your throat.

“I brought your dinner,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Toji didn’t respond immediately. His gaze lingered on the tray, and then on you, as if trying to figure out what you were playing at. Finally, he let out a low hum, his expression unreadable.

“Did you make this?” he asked, his voice rough but quieter than usual.

You nodded, your palms clammy. “Yes. I thought… I thought you might like something different.”

He said nothing for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. Then, with a faint shrug, he leaned back in his chair and gestured toward the door. “Leave it. You can go now.”

You hesitated, unsure if he was going to eat or simply let this meal go to waste like the others. But you couldn’t press him, not now. You nodded and turned to leave, closing the door softly behind you.

Later that night, when you returned to collect the tray, your heart sank as you prepared yourself to see the food untouched again. But when you stepped inside and saw the empty plates, your breath caught. He had eaten it. Every last bite.

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at the empty tray, your chest tightening with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. You couldn’t tell if this small victory meant anything to him, but it meant something to you. For the first time since arriving at the Zenin estate, you felt like you’d done something that mattered.

Thanks for reading <3

#anime #jjk fanfic #jjk geto #jjk gojo #jjk nanami #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #angst #writing #jujutsu gojo #toji x y/n #jujutsu toji #toji x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #toji zenin #zenin clan #jjk

76 notes · View notes

jokerislandgirl32 · 7 months ago

Text

Wild Kratts Academy?

Okay, this might be a bit of an out of the box idea, but what if the Wild Kratts Crew hosted a school or summer camp for the Wild Kratts kids (and any of the fankids created by members of the WK fandom)?

It could either be like a boarding school situation where the children travel/live with the Wild Kratts for a certain part of the year, and they are with their families the rest of the year.

Or, it could be a summer camp type deal where they join the Kratts for the summer and hone in on important educational skills and animal/environmental knowledge (I feel like this is probably the more logical option, but I’ll explain both scenarios below the cut).

For the boarding school option….During the time they are with the Wild Kratts, they would learn not only basic skills (reading, writing, math), but there would, obviously, be a huge emphasis on science/creatures! Namely, science or creature based activities would be utilized to help teach the children.

For example: The kids need to learn their letters and sounds, so they will go find creatures whose names begin with those letters/sounds. Or, the children need to learn counting: welp, let’s take them out to count the number of elephants in the herd. And those are just some basic/kindergarten level examples (kindergarten educator here 😂).

Different members of the Wild Kratts team would be assigned to different subjects and age groups. All members would assist with the science part of course, but they could each take specific subjects/age groups.

Perhaps Koki could teach reading/language arts to younger children. Chris could teach math to older students. And so on. (I’m just brainstorming here, I’m not sure which subjects would fit which WK member best, if anyone has any advice or suggestions, feel free to add them in a reblog!)

I also love the idea of the villains, redeemed in this scenario of course, taking part in the learning venture. I feel like Donita would be a fabulous animal (inspired) art teacher. Gourmand a wonderful culinary teacher, specializing in vegetarian meals or foods that are made to look like animals, but are not made from animals.

For the summer camp option, it would be much of the same concept, but instead of having an emphasis on educational activities geared to learn core content knowledge, the activities would be focused solely on science/animal/environment based learning.

With this option, I feel like Aviva would take on a great part of the leadership role, and she would formulate the camp activities to reflect those similar to the experiences she and Zach shared at science camp as children.

Speaking of Zach and the villains…

Funding for such a program could come from grants or donations, and I feel like Zach, and to a lesser extent Donita, Gourmand, and Paisley, would be the individuals responsible for many of these monetary aids.

In turning to the side of good they wanted to help the future generations not turn to villainy against animals and the environment like they had. So, they would use their own money to help ensure the program is well funded.

And if my OC Violet was part of the action in this scenario (speaking specifically of the boarding school option)…. I feel she’d totally be responsible for the academics for the youngest Wild Kratts Academy members: the kindergartners and 1st to 2nd grade aged students.

As a bit of a side note, but also a possible explanation to how this program may have started, I’ve played around with the idea of Zach and Violet homeschooling their children. After some input from @novazentryx I truly feel like this would be the best move for Zach and Violet with their own children.

Due to their work life and busy schedules it would be difficult to remain in one place and allow the children to obtain schooling in a traditional setting (because Zach and Violet join the Wild Kratts Team in the years following the births of their eldest children).

So, Zach and Violet would already have their children with them, so perhaps they could be the “pilot children” for the program. Along with some of the Wild Kratts kids we know and love, and fankids/children of the other Wild Kratts characters (in my AU the fankids created by @rosey100 @lovelynurseandhenchman and @octoqueen10 exist so maybe your fankids will join in or will participate in the summer camp option if not full time/the boarding school???)

Anyway, I hope all of this makes sense, feel free to add to this post if you all would like!

85 notes · View notes

jasonswh0rre · 1 year ago

Text

The Psychological Analysis of Jason Todd

I am a psych major, and my professor is allowing us to make an analysis of any character of our choice, so I figured who better to write then Jason Todd. This was very fun to write and I very much enjoyed rewatching Batman: Arkham Knight. Please enjoy. ☁️ Warning(s): Trigger Warning for Trauma, Mental Health Content, Violence, Graphic Imagery, Spoiler(s)☁️ Word Count: 2.6k ☁️: Authors Note: I am working on fanfics, more headcanons for Arkham Jason, unfortunately I am busy with classes, assignments and deadlines. I will try to be punctual but it may take time. Thank you for your understanding.

Introduction

Jason Todd is the secondary villain in Batman: Arkham Knight, which has the same moniker. He is the second Robin and Bruce Wayne's adoptive son.

Jason Peter Todd was born in the slums of Gotham City to two drug-addicted parents, who would eventually try to settle a debt they had by giving Jason away when he was a baby. Jason received no parental figure to help guide him, leading him to petty crimes such as theft to nourish his survival. Jason is a character who takes what he needs if it means prolonging his survival; his lack of a parental figure leads him to an identity crisis between longing for a parental figure and convincing himself he is better off without one. When the simple truth is that every human needs a mother and a father, we respond positively to a nurturing environment, and through early adolescence, our brains crave the structure needed to build us into well-rounded adults.

At fifteen, Jason inadvertently met Batman while committing robbery when Batman was fighting Gotham's notorious supervillain, The Joker. Believing Batman is in trouble, Jason jumps between pushing the hero from harm's way. Despite life's misfortunes, Jason possesses a remarkable code of morality enough to want to save someone. Jason, attempting to rid Joker of his breath, aims a pistol at the clown and, before firing, is knocked out of his hands by Batman's batarang. Unfortunately for him, Joker would leave Jason with a cryptic message, one for the young man to head.

Jason would later be apprehended and taken into custody in the back of a police car by Batman after Batman retrieved his gun and stolen money. However, rather than being charged, Jason receives a blessing through a Wayne Industries project that helped troubled teens; through the program, Jason was able to turn his life around. All attract the man who helped Jason find a new purpose: Bruce Wayne. Months after being released, Batman appeared in Jason's dorm, again offering Jason another opportunity.

2nd Robin and Kidnapping

Taking Jason in as his ward as well as dubbing him Robin after Dick Grayson, Jason sought justice and enjoyed being a hero. Like the previous Robin, he showed a keen aptitude for it; unlike his predecessor, he possessed a fiery temper and willingness for more lethal force. While Jason's temper is directed towards the criminals that harm the innocents, Batman views this as inexcusable, fearing the day that Jason will kill instead of reprimanding.

In the most twisted sense of irony, Jason's morality inevitably becomes his downfall. The Joker has blown up a school with kindergarteners; this leads to Jason's resolve that Joker needs to die. Knowing that Bruce would try to stop him, Jason abandons his comms and tracker so he can kill Joker. However, it is a trap, and Joker ambushes Jason. Jason was kept in a wheelchair, bonded by barbed wire that kept Jason leaning hunched over in excruciating pain. Throughout his pain, Jason's mind remained still; he was confident that Batman would find him; his sheer will at the beginning of his torture is, with all honesty, remarkable as Joker has been known for his mental abuse and mind games he plays with his victims including his sidekick, Harley Quinn.

In the six months of his torture, Jason's unwavering mental resolve was slowly crippling as Joker had wanted; throughout the game, Jason's voice mixed with crippling fear and small doubts about Batman coming. The Joker feeds into his doubts by showing him a photo of Batman with his replacement, Tim Drake. This leaves Jason troubled as he slowly loses hope for Batman.

The last act of Jason's torture involved a video sent to Batman via The Joker of Jason, who has undergone all his brainwashing; in the video, Jason is sitting down in a chair; he is not chained, barbed, handcuffed, or kept sitting still in any way by all means Jason could easily walk away. This is a significant and crucial part of Jason's torture as it symbolizes just how much mental anguish and emotional exhaustion Jason went through to the point that he no longer had a yearning for freedom—making him downright timid and submissive towards Joker enough to out Batman's identity when asked by the latter. This results in Joker shooting Jason point-blank in the chest, as Joker "never could stand a tattletale." However, this was only a ploy to make Batman believe Jason is genuinely dead.

On the contrary, Jason was kept alive for another year, endeavoring more torture, mistreatment, and malnourishment. Harley Quinn did the final touches of Jason's emotional and mental brainwashing; a former psychiatrist who manipulated Jason into believing that Batman was the cause of his anguish and his pain was his doing; she did this long enough, even punishing Jason by waterboarding him and electrocuting him when he refused to say Batman, indicating he still had some level of awareness of who was torturing him.

However, once Harley could get Jason to say Batman's name, Jason was drugged and beaten by two prisoners dressed like Batman; he was given a gun by The Joker and was ordered to kill them. Jason's resolve and humanity were a cord, still entrenched in him before Harley convinced him further, snapping his humanity and getting him to shoot the two dressed-up prisoners dead.

During the riots of Arkham Asylum, The Joker paid mercenary Deathstroke to keep Jason there and shoot him if he escaped. However, Jason convinces Deathstroke that Joker will not keep his promise and that if he helps, Jason will triple whatever Joker plans to pay. Accepting the offer, Deathstroke assists Jason in escaping, stealing a helicopter, and flying to Wayne Industries. Jason steals millions of dollars from his former guardian. Ironically, crossing paths with Tim Drake, who assumes Todd to be Deathstroke's sidekick, when Jason's ankle is caught between Tim's grappling hook, Jason cuts the cord, allowing Tim to fall when suggested by Deathstroke that killing Robin would bode well for them with the Dark Knight. Jason Coldy says that if he dies in a fall like that, Batman needs to pick his sidekicks better.

Jason's psyche has been torn and scattered, leaving him a hollowed carving with a mocking J branding etched onto his face, from birth his eyes were already met with darkness, born to parents who never showed him recognition, let alone love, and through the Wayne Industries Project and his adoption by Bruce his eyes were wide, and remarkably hopeful, to be free of the weight of Gotham's misfortunes finally; those eyes that looked with gleam forced shut until he saw nothing but blackness.

Arkham Knight's Birth

Jason adopts a new persona built on the pain and suffering in the wake of his escape from Joker. He feels betrayed by the one person he only had in the world and wants vengeance. Jason works alongside Scarecrow, one of Batman's enemies. The two begin a plan on Halloween to take Gotham and Batman's legacy along with it. Jason gathers all Batman's enemies to join, assembling a militia with Deathstroke. While working with each other, Scarecrow "tests" his fear toxin on the young man, sending him on a psychological spiral. One of his more apparent fears is the Joker, who can be found near, in the background, or standing right in front of him laughing and mocking him, but beyond the clown prince of crime's appearance, Jason also sees his replacement, Tim Drake, and "fights" him.

The fight has Jason severely outnumbered in the beginning, with Tim succeeding, even using his staff to choke Jason, forcing him to the ground as the Jokers around him laugh. Further into the fear toxin, Jason appears in front of Wayne Manor, where he throws down his helmet and says the following: "Someplace warm, someplace safe, someplace where I'm needed, someplace where I'm loved," Joker once again appears in front of him laughing and mocking him on whether he even deserves it, this is Jason's internal struggle in a manifested form of the person who caused him harm, of the person who convinced him from the start that he was alone and would not be saved. Jason is mischaracterized as always being angry or standoffish, but anger has more truth than any lie detector can scoop. Jason feels this anger is not just because of some personality trait; anger is his cry out, and he's shouting to be seen and loved. This is most likely due to being tortured at 15 or so, which, despite the fact that at the time of Arkham Knight, he was in his early 20s, his mental age was regressed to the age when he was captured. This makes Jason appear at first glance as someone emotional, cocky, and arrogant. He values safety and love; he doesn't want to be on his guard 24/7, but he's grown up in an environment where letting your guard down gets you killed. He follows Joker into Wayne Manor, where he sees Bruce; suddenly, several versions of Batman appear in the room. They beat him and told him they never wanted a partner or even a son. This is a conflict that has always waged war in Jason's mind. Jason's biological father attempted to give him up and then belittled him when he explained that Jason's worth was so low that he couldn't even leave him; he has low self-esteem that he internalizes into rage in the way that he fights to prove his strength.

This is why Jason has a strong attachment to Bruce/Batman it maybe due to an underlying desire to seek his approval especially by the time when he adopts him. Bruce gives him everything he could ask for and anything he could think of, and Batman gives him a purpose. Ironically, this is still the case despite Bruce himself having an avoidant attachment style.

Conclusion and Diagnosis

Jason Todd's character in "Batman: Arkham Knight" exhibits a complex interplay of psychological factors that align with the diagnostic criteria for Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). One prominent feature of BPD is emotional dysregulation, characterized by intense and rapidly shifting emotions. Jason displays various emotions throughout the game, from anger and hostility to vulnerability and despair. His reactions often appear exaggerated or disproportionate to the situation, indicating difficulty regulating his emotional responses.

Furthermore, Jason's sense of identity is notably unstable, which is another hallmark feature of BPD. Having grown up in a dysfunctional environment with absent parents, Jason lacks a stable sense of self and struggles to define his identity. This is evident in his adoption of various personas, including Robin, the Arkham Knight, and, later, the Red Hood. His shifting identities reflect a profound inner conflict and a desperate search for validation and purpose. Jason's interpersonal relationships also reflect the interpersonal instability characteristic of BPD. He forms intense and unstable attachments to figures such as Batman, vacillating between admiration and resentment. His interactions with other characters are marked by rapid shifts in perception, alternating between idealization and devaluation. For example, while Jason initially idolizes Batman as a mentor and father figure, his feelings of betrayal and abandonment lead to resentment and hostility towards him.

Moreover, Jason exhibits self-destructive behaviors as a coping mechanism for his emotional pain, another hallmark of BPD. He engages in reckless actions, disregarding his safety to seek vengeance against those he perceives as enemies. His confrontations with adversaries are often fueled by a desire for self-assertion and control, masking more profound feelings of emptiness and despair.

Underlying Jason's behaviors is a pervasive fear of abandonment, stemming from his traumatic upbringing and experiences of betrayal. This fear drives his desperate attempts to maintain connections with others, even as he pushes them away with his volatile and unpredictable behavior. Jason's fear of abandonment manifests in his interactions with Batman and the Bat family, where he oscillates between seeking their approval and rejecting their authority.

Jason Todd's character in "Batman: Arkham Knight" embodies many of the core features of Borderline Personality Disorder, including emotional dysregulation, identity disturbance, interpersonal instability, self-destructive behaviors, and a fear of abandonment. By analyzing his actions, relationships, and psychological struggles within the context of the game's narrative, it becomes apparent that Jason's character aligns closely with the diagnostic criteria for BPD, providing a compelling framework for understanding his complex and multifaceted personality.

Besides indicating various symptoms of BPD, I would also consider diagnosing Jason with Complex Post post-traumatic stress Disorder (C-PTSD). Given Jason's background of severe trauma, including childhood abuse, neglect, and prolonged torture at the hands of the Joker, it's worth considering Complex PTSD. C-PTSD typically develops in response to chronic trauma and is characterized by symptoms such as emotional dysregulation, disturbed self-concept, difficulties in relationships, and a persistent sense of threat. I would include diagnosing Jason with Major Depressive Disorder (MDD): Jason's experiences of profound loss, trauma, and betrayal may contribute to symptoms of depression, such as feelings of hopelessness, worthlessness, and a loss of interest in activities. His struggles with emotional regulation and chronic feelings of emptiness could also align with depressive symptoms. Following my diagnosis, I am also inclined to believe he suffers from attachment disorders; given Jason's tumultuous upbringing and experiences and a multitude of parental figures involving neglect and abandonment, it's possible that he may have developed attachment-related difficulties. This could manifest in insecure attachment styles, fear of abandonment, and challenges in forming and maintaining healthy relationships.

Furthermore, I would consider Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD): While Jason displays empathy and compassion at times, his willingness to engage in morally questionable or violent behavior, as well as his disregard for societal norms and rules, may align with some features of ASPD. However, his capacity for genuine care and loyalty makes this disorder out of sorts with his character.

Lastly, Post-Traumatic Embitterment Disorder (PTED): PTED is a proposed diagnostic category characterized by intense feelings of injustice, betrayal, and embitterment following a traumatic event or series of events. Jason's experiences of betrayal and abandonment, particularly by Batman and the Joker, may resonate with the symptoms of PTED.

In conclusion, the character of Jason Todd in "Batman: Arkham Knight" presents a compelling portrayal of psychological complexity shaped by a tumultuous history of trauma, betrayal, and profound loss. Through a comprehensive analysis of his experiences and behaviors throughout the game, it becomes evident that Jason embodies many psychological struggles, warranting consideration for various diagnostic possibilities. Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) emerges as a primary candidate, given Jason's emotional volatility, identity disturbances, and interpersonal difficulties. His tumultuous relationships, intense fear of abandonment, and self-destructive tendencies align closely with the diagnostic criteria for BPD. Furthermore, Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) offers another lens through which to understand Jason's psychological profile, considering his history of chronic trauma and its pervasive impact on his functioning.

Additionally, Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) may contribute to Jason's experiences of profound despair, hopelessness, and emotional emptiness. His struggles with attachment-related difficulties suggest the possibility of underlying attachment disorders stemming from his early experiences of neglect and abandonment.

While Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD) and Post-Traumatic Embitterment Disorder (PTED) offer alternative perspectives, they may not fully capture the complexity of Jason's character, given his capacity for empathy and genuine care, despite his propensity for morally questionable behavior.

In essence, Jason Todd's character in "Batman: Arkham Knight" is a poignant exploration of the human psyche's intricacies, illustrating the profound impact of trauma on identity, relationships, and emotional well-being. By delving into his psychological struggles within the context of the game's narrative, we gain valuable insights into the complexities of mental health and the enduring resilience of the human spirit.

#arkham knight #jason todd #red hood #headcanon #positive thoughts #psychology #psych student #arkham batman #psychological analysis #psyche student analyzes #jasonswh0rre

205 notes · View notes